Assassin's Creed: The Nelson's Code - Part 1
by nelso555
Summary: Freedom • the power of self-determination attributed to the will; the quality of being independent of fate or necessity. Jacob Nelson, a history professor, is opened up to the amazing power of the animus. He soon finds himself in the young shoes of Horatio Nelson, and in the heart of the Napoleonic Wars. He will fight for his country and for a much greater, unexpected cause.
1. Chapter 1 - Are You Jacob Nelson?

**ASSASSIN'S CREED: THE NELSON'S CODE - PART 1**

**Chapter 1 – Are You Jacob Nelson?**

The National Library of France was dark and rather eerie during the night, it was at this time that Jacob Nelson liked it the most. The cool night-time breeze of Paris drifted lightly through the large vacant building and the lack of people allowed Jacob to teem over his history books in peace. Ever since he was a child Jacob was fascinated by the events of the past and the miraculous stories that it unveiled. Twenty-six years later and he was no different, except that now he was a professor of history and had access to some of the greatest archives in the entire world.

'There you are.' Jacob said aloud, as he reached over and pulled from the shelf and old leather bound. A thin layer of dust had settled over the top of the book and it broke apart as Jacob blew the dust into the air with a soft puff. The book was actually an encyclopaedia that was titled 'King Harold Godwinson, The Last Anglo-Saxon King of England.' Jacob sat the old encyclopaedia down at his table and he began to read. Only about five minutes after he had started, and Jacob was interrupted by the loud creaking of the library doors as they were pushed open. A cold rush of wind and snow howled into the dark library.

'Who on earth could that be at this time of night?' He muttered, frustrated by the distraction. Jacob tried to look down the isle through the dim lighting of the silent library, but he could see no one. Then out of the darkness came a man, he seemed to be middle aged, perhaps in his late fifty's. The man wore a thick brown trench coat to fend off the cold of a winter's night in Paris. His hair was grey and thin, with strokes of white running through it, and his bleak expression turned to something of joy as he sighted Jacob.

Behind the old man stood a woman, she must have been in her late twenties. Her long hair was died dark red and it sat comfortably on her shoulders. The woman wore and white coat that suited her well over her slim body, in her arms she carried a clipboard and a small bag with something in it.

'Are you Jacob Nelson?' The man asked timidly.

Jacob closed his book, sat up straight and shot the man a puzzled expression, 'Yes,' he said, 'Why do you ask? Who are you?'

The man stopped and stood before Jacob. 'I'm sorry, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dr Robert Hill, ex-employee of Abstergo industries. And this is my assistant Mrs Stacy White.'

Jacob looked over to Stacy and she gave a light smile, she had a very pretty smile.

'No offence, but why are you here?' Jacob asked sternly.

Dr Hill took a seat next to Jacob at the table, 'What can you tell me of the great Admiral Lord Nelson?' he asked.

Jacob was perplexed by the odd question but he answered it all the same.

'He was a great British war hero during the Napoleonic Wars of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century, he was shot down at the battle of Trafalgar in 1805. He died fighting for his nation.'

Dr Hill gave a small nodding of understanding, 'Are you related to the man?' he asked again.

'My name is a coincidence,' Jacob answered, 'According to historical records Lady Hamilton, his current lover at the time, died in poverty not long after his own assassination and his only daughter, Horacia Nelson, was raised in the house of her step father. Last I checked the ancestry could be traced to a family living in Canada.'

Doctor Hill was quiet for a moment. 'You see, Mr Nelson, that is where I believe you are wrong. I believe that there are a lot of things about Lord Nelson's life that the world never really knew.'

'And what makes you say that?' Jacob challenged.

Just then Dr Hill snapped his fingers, signalling Mrs White to reach into her bag and pull out a small, leather bound journal, about the size of someone's hand. She handed the journal to Dr Hill and he placed it flat on the table in front of Jacob.

'This, my dear Jacob, is the written word of Lord Nelson himself and it tells a very different tale to the one that we all know.'

'How did you get that?' Jacob asked, suddenly very intrigued. As far as he knew, that book didn't even exist.

'Abstergo has friends in powerful places. This journal was found it the possession of your grandfather, just before he died.' Dr Hill explained, 'But you see, I am not so much concerned with the events of Lord Nelson's life or is ancestry. No, what I want lays at the end of it, treasure.'

At that Jacob began to laugh, but then stopped himself. 'So you're telling me that this journal has the location of some secret treasure buried away by Lord Nelson?'

'Oh no,' Dr Hill said solemnly, 'Lord Nelson would never risk revealing the location of his secret riches. That, Jacob, is where you come in.'

'How am I supposed to help?' Jacob asked.

'Come with me to my lab in London, and all will be revealed there.'

Jacob considered the offer for a moment, and then gave his reply. 'This all sounds crazy to me, but you have caught my attention. I will join you in this treasure hunt but let me gather my things first.'

Dr Hill stood up and then offered a handshake, 'I will send for you first light tomorrow morning. Oh, and Jacob, you will not be disappointed.'

With that Dr Hill and Mrs White left the darkened library and once again all was completely silent.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Animus

**Chapter 2 – The Animus**

Jacob always liked to move around a lot, and so when he stepped off the plane in London, all that he carried with him was a light travel bag with some clothes and books. During the flight Jacob spoke with Mrs White, who preferred to be called Stacy, and she explained to him what they had in mind for the stay in London. Stacy seemed reluctant to reveal much else. To Jacob it all seemed really bazar but by now he was too curious as to what the future held for him. _An alternate history to Lord Nelson! Simply incredible!_

The plane slowly touched down and ran to a halt. Doctor Hill opened the door and stepped out, followed by Jacob and Stacy. Jacob followed Doctor Hill into a parked black sedan outside the airport. London was busy in the afternoons and the heavy traffic made for a longer ride. After forty minutes they arrived at a large modern type building. As Jacob walked into the building lobby he noticed the famous Abstergo industries logo, an oddly shaped triangle, painted onto the front desk.

'I thought Doctor Hill no longer worked here.' Jacob inquired to Stacy.

'Well technically he doesn't.' Stacy answered, 'Dr hill was fired from his office in New York last year, but he was still able to retain his access codes to all Abstergo buildings in Europe.'

Robert Hill led Jacob into an elevator and they began to rise to a higher floor. When the elevator stopped on the tenth floor the doors slid open and revealed the laboratory beyond. The room had full windows that showed the streets of London below and there was a glass screen that separated the floor into two parts. Both sides of the room were poorly furnished and the clean white polished floor reflected everything that was on it. In the side that Jacob was concerned with sat a chair, but this was not an ordinary chair, there were cords and wires and a glass screen that hung in front of where the head would normally rest.

'What is it?' Jacob asked conspicuously as he felt the soft red velvet cushion of the chair with his hand.

Doctor Hill walked over and stood beside Jacob. 'This device is called the animus,' He explained, 'It is a projector that renders genetic memories in three dimensions.'

'Genetic memories?' Jacob asked.

Doctor Hill had Stacy sit Jacob down in the animus as he explained further. 'I don't expect you to understand all of this. Just think Jacob, a memory is a recollection of images from a past event. What if I told you that the human body not only housed an individual's memory, but the memories of his ancestors as well.' Doctor Hill turned to his computer and began the animus process. 'If you do not believe me Jacob, the you can see for yourself.'

By now Jacob sat comfortably in the soft animus chair and looked through the glass screen that now displayed the words '_Genetic Memory Timeline_' in simple white font. The edges of the screen began to glow blue as the device was activated and a strain of DNA was displayed to represent individual memories from all of Jacob's ancestors. Jacob was bemused as he came to grasp the technology that he was witnessing.

Stacy made sure Jacob was comfortable while Dr Hill typed away at his keyboard. 'I am going to take you back to the year 1770, according to the journal you're ancestor, Lord Nelson, will be in his final year of schooling just before he joined the royal navy. If the timing is right then it should give you a good chance to get used to the animus. This is going to take some time.'

As Doctor Hill spoke, words and numbers whizzed across Jacob's screen and the animus process began.

'At first this is going to feel very strange to you, you may feel nauseous at times and so we will start off slow as we explain how to operate inside the animus. Here we go.'

Jacob tried to relax and then watched patiently, becoming amazed as the animus screen came to life.


	3. Chapter 3 - New Beginnings

**Chapter 3 – New Beginnings**

_"Friends are the most powerful of weapons."_

_'14__th__ September 1770,_

_The days are going by faster now that my time at this dreaded school is coming to an end. I am becoming rather cautious of the Bridgeton gang as they continue harassing my fellow cohorts and making a mess of our facilities. If Eddie and his gang of villains are not moved from our area I fear that they are going to burn it to the ground, and that won't be good for anybody…'_

The working day ended and all of the eager students rushed out of the classroom with a sense of freedom as they filled the small but seemingly open school grounds. Horatio Nelson ran with sudden energy to the cool lake that was located behind the woods. His best friend Benjamin and the rest of his group accompanied him. It was a daily tradition to rush down to the lake after lessons and play around in the cool sparkling water before returning home for daily chores. As Nelson approached the lake he removed his hat and allowed his long thick dark hair to bounce around his shoulders, he then took off his father's expensive blue jacket and undershirt and threw them into the dirt along with his boots. Now, in only his white breeches, Nelson leaped headfirst into the water and splashed it high into the air. Soon after he was joined by Benjamin. The boy's chubby belly jiggled as he swan dived off a log and into the lake. Benjamin rose to the surface in the same likeness as a sea manatee.

'Ah, if only all of our days could be spent like this.' Benjamin Remarked as he splashed around in the water.

'Perhaps one day they will be, Benny.' Nelson dropped to his knees so that his shoulders were completely submerged, 'But Eddie and his boys won't be making it any easier.'

Edward Bridgeton was considered as a rival gang leader to Nelson and his friends in the area, the only difference was that Eddie had a tendency to destroy everything that he touched. Like Nelson he was sophisticated for his age however his methods were always somewhat merciless.

Benjamin glanced coldly over the hill that was directly above the lake, 'Speak of the Devil.' He spat harshly.

Nelson followed Benny's line of sight until he spotted the tall and skinny figure leaning against the thick trunk of the willow tree that covered part of the lake. Much like Nelson himself, Eddie was just touching the fist few stages of adolescence, neither of the boys had developed much muscle tone but both were still equally cunning. Eddie wore a loose white shirt that exposed most of his pale chest as well as an old pair of trousers with dirt stains on them. His light blonde hair was combed over so that the fringe ran across his little forehead and his shallow brown eyes held a gaze filled with authority and power, despite his small form.

'I'm sorry Harry.' Eddie referred to Nelson by his nick name, 'But this lake isn't big enough for both of our groups, I'm afraid you're going to have to leave.'

Nelson instantly glimpsed over to a large fallen tree branch along side the bank of the lake. Beneath it he and his friends had buried a chest that contained five slingshots and five small bags full of smooth stones. Normally the slingshots were used for shooting painted-on targets or even small animals, but Nelson knew that this situation with Eddie was going to get ugly, as it has before. He caught Benjamin's attention, and then pointed with his eyes towards the secret chest. Benjamin understood the order and began wading through the water, cautious not to arise any suspicions. At the same time Eddie and his gang paced onto the white sandy bank, exactly within range of the slingshots.

'We were here first.' Nelson spoke, 'Just go somewhere else.'

'Really Harry, because my boys and I have no problem with beating you and you're petty rats to a pulp.' Eddies threats were harsh, but Nelson knew that he meant what he said.

As soon as he saw that Benjamin was in position, Nelson smiled and gave a light chuckle, 'You can try Eddie,' He said humorously, 'Now Benny!'

Benjamin had already removed his favourite slingshot and loaded it with an almost perfectly round stone, ready to shoot on Nelson's command. When the signal came, Benjamin lifted the slingshot and fired the stone directly at Eddie. The stone struck Eddie in the ribs, clashing into them with such force that it knocked the boy backwards into the soft white sand of the bank.

As Eddie howled and coughed and cried on the ground, his followers were trying to decide whether to stay and fight or run and hide. The decision was made when another stone hit one of the confused boys in his left ear, splitting it open with a spurt of hot blood. The boy was left in the sand, clutching his bleeding ear and lying in pain beside his leader as the rest of the group retreated up the hill.

Nelson stepped out of the water and stood over his defeated opponent, filled with victory and triumph. 'A fine shot Benny. I think you shattered the poor lads rib.' Nelson turned and faced the one who fired the second shot, 'Excellent marksmanship Henry, you have made us proud.' Nelson patted Henry on the shoulder.

'I think we'd best head home.' Benjamin stated, 'I don't think you're uncle is going to be happy when he hears about this.'

Nelson's mood stayed the same, 'Right you are Benny, my uncle is going to be furious, but I also think it would be best if we helped Eddie here get back home.'

The boy with the bleeding ear was able to run home by himself, but Eddie needed to be carried, a task carried out by Nelson and Benjamin. The rest of the group went home and prepared to be punished for getting into another rivalry.

Eddie was much heavier than he appeared, and Nelson began to struggle with his part of the burden as he and Benjamin neared the school grounds. Eddie moaned and struggled every time Nelson bumped his rib. 'Let go of me! Ouch!'

After a long moment of silence during the strenuous trek back up the hill, Benjamin began to speak, 'It's hard to believe,' he said heavily as he balanced his wait with Eddie leaning against him.

'What?' Nelson asked, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

'I actually think I'm going to miss all of this.'

'What do you mean?' Nelson asked again.

'Well think about it, after this year you're running off to the Royal Navy and I'm getting sent back to London. Our lives are going to be different now, and I'll be damned if we even see each other again.'

Nelson set poor Eddie down by a tree and looked up at his friend, 'What ever happens, we'll get by,' Nelson picked Eddie up again. 'We always have.'


	4. Chapter 4 - First Day On The Job

**Chapter 4 – First Day On The Job**

_"Do not question someone who knows what they are doing."_

_'1__st__ January 1771,_

_Finally I have reported to the third-rate HMS Raisonnable. I serve as an ordinary seaman and soon-to-be coxswain under captain Maurice Suckling, my uncle. Knowing him, I'll probably be working skin to bone from dusk to dawn. I am sure as hell going to miss Benny, he was a brother to me, but now I have more pressing matters to concern myself with, for starting today my loyalties lie with the Royal British Navy, and nothing shall ever come between my country and I…'_

The taste of bile burned within Horatio Nelson's mouth as he vomited his breakfast over the side rail of the _Raisonnable_ and into the deep blue ocean below.

'How any relative of mine could suffer from seasickness is completely beyond me.' Maurice Suckling stood straight and proud over his gasping nephew as he lectured the boy on the seaworthiness of his father. 'You're father was one of the best sailors I had ever met. This was of course before he became a clergyman. The crazy old bastard.' Suckling began to pace back and forth along the deck as he continued his talk. 'That man had sea-legs as steady as a marksman's musket and a stomach made of iron.'

'Give the lad a break,' Said Frankie from across the deck. He was leaning casually against the far rail, chuckling as he watched his captain lecture yet another newcomer. 'The boy will find his place here, if you give it time.'

Maurice had to hold his large feathered captains hat as the strengthening wind tried to tear it from his balding head. The captain took a few steps towards Frankie, 'Then I expect you to show our new recruit to his stations.'

'Yes sir.' Frankie hopped up onto his feet, gathered Nelson and led the boy to the quarterdeck. All the while Frankie instructed him on his duties as a seaman.

Frankie was Maurice's second in command. He was much younger than the captain, only around twenty-eight years of age. The mans long dark hair was tied back out of his chiselled face, his navy uniform lacked a sense of pride for his white shirt and brown breeches were wrinkled and his navy blue jacket was undone and flapped freely in the wind. As for Maurice, the captain was a dedicated commander who worked his men hard and achieved the best results. Captain Maurice had a strong reputation among the other sailors, mostly because he was a hard man to get along with. There was a rumour among the sailors that he once marooned a group of his own men on an island because he learned that they were defectors and had planned to overtake the ship. Each man was given a weeks worth of food and a pistol with one shot. When Maurice returned to the island several weeks later he found that, of the five men he put on the island, one yet remained. Two of the bodies were never found, and the other two had appeared to have been cooked and stripped of their flesh. The survivor was recaptured and taken back to England to be hanged for cannibalism. Whether Maurice had intended for the punishment to be so gruesome has never been revealed, but it is known that no one has ever dared to cross Captain Maurice since that day onwards.

Captain Maurice was at least twice Frankie's age, his face was worn and his thin white moustache was the only hair that remained on his head. His captain's uniform was well kept, and his stance was always firm and powerful, reinforced by the way that he carried his black cane with the silver head at all times.

'Now as you can see, this is a standard HMS ship.' Frankie gave Nelson the basic tour, 'There's the mast, rigging, sails, stern, bow and all the rest.' The ship was busy, and men ran back and forth across the deck. Frankie Continued, 'You will firstly be shown how to work the rigging, as coxswain you will also assist in navigating the ship and you will later be instructed in loading and firing muskets and cannons.'

Frankie's tutorial was sternly interrupted by captain Suckling's orders, 'To your stations men, I think it is about time the _Raisonnable _made her way out to open waters. Don't you agree, Frankie?'

Frankie had already taken hold of the rigging and was ready to let the sails loose. 'Aye sir.' He responded, 'And she is going to welcome it with smooth sailing, despite this terrible headwind.'

The sun began to fall from the sky a few hours after noon and still Nelson struggled to keep up with the ship. It was a big ship and there was much work to be done. Every now and then he would be called to adjust one of the sails or to organise the powder supplies in the hold, or even just to scrub the deck. The work was not made easier in that Nelson still suffered from seasickness and nausea, and he began to question whether he would ever get over it, or if sea life was really the best choice for him, either way there was no going back now.

At last the seemingly eternal working day came to an end and Nelson was permitted to go to his hammock under the deck where all the other crew would sleep. The sleeping quarter below deck was dark and it was filled with a musty aroma. Nelson remained in his seaman's uniform as he crawled into his hammock, he assumed that the endless swaying of the sea and the groans and snorts of the sleeping crew would keep him from sleeping, but the extreme day of working had tired the boy to a point where these things no longer mattered, and he slept peacefully as if he were a baby resting peacefully in it's crib.


	5. Chapter 5 - Training

**Chapter 5 – Training**

_"Know your enemy."_

_'11__th__ January 1771,_

_I have only been eleven days at sea however it feels much longer, like the days just merge together. Along with my usual work under Frankie's gazing eye, I have also been put to work learning basic swordplay, improving my aim with a musket, navigating the ship and even learning other languages. I still get sick from time to time, but as we sail southwest into Spain, my stomach hardens and my confidence rises. All of my achievements so far are no doubt thanks to Frankie, he is the only person on board who looks out for me, at least there is one…'_

The morning sun stretched slowly over the horizon, painting the sea and the calm sweet sky with a lively burst of orange and burning yellow. Nelson could not help but take time from his duties on deck to appreciate such a magical sight, one that he would stare at for hours on end if only he could pause time.

'It never gets old,' said Frankie standing beside him. 'To watch the sun rise over the ocean. It's just about the only beautiful thing we have left out here.'

Nelson couldn't help but smile and then return to tying the smaller sails down. As he did so, Frankie placed a hand on his shoulder and stopped him, 'You will not be working today.' Frankie smiled and then turned and picked up two swords, both were basic sabres but one stood out compared to the other. The blade that Frankie possessed was very well designed. The handle was light, made from silver and hardened strong black leather that allowed for a swift and controlled stroke. The polished-silver weapon was well balanced in its master's hand and served well in conflict. Nelson also noticed a set of initials etched into the base of the blade: J.W.

'This sword belonged to my father before he passed it down to me, he loved this blade as I now do, more than anyone could ever imagine. Such a weapon as this has claimed many lives and saved many others, especially mine.'

Nelson easily understood the mans affections for the weapon, for he himself was drawn to it's power as if he were under some kind of spell.

Before Nelson caved into his sudden desire to snatch the majestic weapon before him, Frankie extended his arm with another sword in his grip. 'This will be your sword.' He said, almost as if he were giving a command, which he was.

This sword was not so beautiful, the handle was heavier and the base of the blade was slightly rusted. Nelson took the sword by the handle and swung it through the air, striking an imaginary opponent.

'Come, you have learned much over these past few days, lets see if I can't teach you something more.' Frankie ordered Nelson into position. They now stood ready to spar on the bow. Nelson inhaled softly and then made the first strike that was easily deflected by his opponent. Frankie had a wide and firm stance, with one arm stretched out to his side in order to maintain his balance. Not long after the match began it was ended, Frankie only sought to delay his younger opponents defeat. With much practised hands, Frankie pulled Nelson forward and spun around to strike his unbalance opponent in the back of the neck with the hilt of his sabre.

'Have you learned nothing?' Frankie teased, 'I could have killed you three times so far. Remember to watch your opponent, think before you strike, look before you leap.'

All that Nelson cared about now was the painful lesson that throbbed at the back of his neck.

'Are you listening to me, Horatio? Find your balance and maintain your footing. Then, before you rush to your death, take a moment to observe whom you are fighting, once you know their strengths and weaknesses then you will be ready to fight. Again!'

Again Nelson was the first to strike, but he did not rush forward like last time. He countered a powerful blow from Frankie and was able to hold his ground.

'Good,' Frankie complimented, 'You are able to maintain your balance, but can you hold it?'

Nelson swung his sword arm around, not noticing that he had exposed the left side of his chest. Frankie used the hand guard of his hilt and punched Nelson hard in the centre of the chest, knocking the wind from his lungs.

'Never lower your guard, even upon attack. You must always protect yourself, the torso is vital.'

After the final blow Nelson needed time to regain his strength and his breath. Frankie sat down beside him and offered some water, which was accepted without hesitation. As the noon bell rang, the midday sun beat heavily down on the crew, it was certainly taking its toll on Nelson as his seasickness returned.

'Do not think poorly of yourself.' Said Frankie comfortingly. 'You learn with haste, something not common among seaman, even those properly trained. In time and with my training you will become a great swordsman. The Great Horatio Nelson, hero of the British Navy.'

Horatio very much liked the sound of that title.


	6. Chapter 6 - The New World

**Chapter 6 – The New World**

_"Vines are never as sturdy as they may appear."_

_'30__th__ July 1777,_

_My service in the Caribbean grows more exiting by the day, and although the HMS Lowestoffe is not the sturdiest vessel I have ever been upon, it is certainly manned well under the orders of captain William Locker. It is strange to think that my time in the navy has only just begun and twice I have already crossed the Atlantic and ventured into the uncharted waters of the Arctic. That incident with Collingwood and the polar bear will no doubt be spoken of for decades to come. I now plan to explore the jungles of the great new world, a place so full of mysteries and secrets yet to be unveiled…'_

The clear crystal water of the Caribbean Sea was full of marine life, and the sweet ocean breeze aroused Horatio Nelson as it caressed his nostrils. Today was a good day in Nelson's eyes, for only this morning he was granted permission by captain Locker to lead an expedition group, including Nelsons ship-partner Cuthbert Collingwood, into the un-ventured jungles that covered the new world. To make things better, the entire crew was in a lively mood, most likely because of the promise of proper drink and rest at the Jamaican settlement as reward for their hard work. Despite the offer, Nelson only had eyes for the Caicos Islands, where he had great opportunity to explore his new fledging interest in science.

'Collingwood, lower the boats.' Nelson ordered.

'Aye-Aye Nelson.' Collingwood had always felt compelled to call him 'sir' or even 'captain' because of his natural leadership. A few other seamen fiddled with some ropes and began hoisting the ten-manned rowboat into the calm blue water below. Collingwood was nearly the same age and height as Nelson, he was of a slim build but his shoulders were wide and muscly. His thick blonde hair reached down to his shoulders and his fringe would droop over his face until he brushed it out of the way. Collingwood's eyes were brown, like the bark on a tree, his mouth was wide and a short beard sprouted from his chin and square-edged jaw line.

As the boat was being readied, Nelson gathered his things. A collection of jars, a magnifier glass, writing tools, notebooks, water, food and some other items that were of less importance. With everything accounted for, Nelson followed his fellow seamen down the rope ladder over the side of the ship and into the compacted rowboat.

The clear blue water was sweet and slim silver fish darted around below the surface. With Nelson and Collingwood pushing the oars the team soon arrived on the soft white sand of the Caicos Islands. Nelson stepped into the water before the boat had even touched the shore and he immediately searched for a place to set up camp. He was only allowed two days to find whatever he was looking for and so he wasted no time. Nelson rushed from the beach and began pitching a tent for himself on a flat area of grass while the rest of the team unloaded the supplies into a stockpile at the centre of the camp. After thirty minutes of unpacking and pitching tents the camp was set up. Nelson had already wasted too much time and was overly eager to head into the island. When he could wait no more he gathered his rucksack and filled it with his jars and journals and pencils. Nelson led the group with Collingwood and three others behind him, the others stayed at the camp.

Never before had Nelson ever experienced a place like this, the dense undergrowth was so thick is some areas that he had to use his sword to cut through it. What truly amazed him were the animals, numerous types of insects that bit and stung his bare flesh, the sound of their flight was almost overwhelming. Then there were the snakes, green snakes and yellow snakes, brown snakes the size of his arm and little black and red snakes that were only the length of his finger. The group collected what they could from the wide display of samples so that they could be further studied later.

Soon the team reached a clearing near the centre of the island, and as they all rested Nelson took the time to write in his journal about a strange little bird he had found fluttering about one of the tall trees on the edge of the clearing. The bird was very small, with a white belly and a blue head. Nelson had decided to name it the White-Necked Jacobin. He jotted down some observations of the bird feeding on nectar from the pink and white flowers in the tree canopy, and then he drew a picture of the bird as best he could.

At midday the group continued through the captivating green island jungle, wondering around the island until a few hours before sundown when Nelson began to lead the party back to camp. Nelson walked several paces ahead with Collingwood beside him, and as they walked he caught sight of something unnatural within the thick jungle screen.

'Do you see that?' Nelson asked Collingwood. He strode over to the ledge of a steep muddy slope so that he had a better view of what he thought looked like a ruined temple, but it was hard to tell because of the moss and jungle growth that surrounded the rocky shape.

'I think it's a temple.' Nelson stated in a quiet voice. As he spoke a small piece of the ground gave way beneath his feet and toppled down the wet slope. Nelson used the roots in the ground to maintain his footing.

Collingwood didn't care for the temple, and was only concerned with stopping his leader from sliding to his death, 'Sir, are you sure you should be standing on the ledge like that?' He cautioned in an apprehensive tone.

Nelson continued to lean forward, 'Yes I'm sure, and you needn't worry, these roots are a strong and firm as the rigging on our ships.'

Suddenly Nelson was cut off as the roots gave way under his weight and sent him plummeting down the muddy hill. Collingwood watched as Nelson toppled and rolled through mud and leaves, as well as being whip-lashed by the branches of living plants that were unfortunate enough to stand in Nelsons path of descent.

Collingwood knew that his friend was in trouble, but deep down he found the whole incident a little humorous, that was until he suddenly lost sight of Nelson at the bottom of the descent.

Nelson had fallen into a hole or a ditch. He wasn't sure. But the initial landing hurt and he fell face down onto a cold, hard surface. Nelson winched and grouched in pain as he attempted to push his broken body into a sitting position. After a long moment he was able to break his dazed condition and found that he was in fact sitting in the centre of a room. The only visibility was of the thinning sunlight that glistened through the hole above him. Nelson immediately noticed that his clothes, face and hair were completely covered in mud and his entire body reeked of rotten undergrowth.

The room around him was dark and crumbling, there were four perfectly square pillars decorated with a straight lined pattern that Nelson had never seen before. On one end of the room was a heavy sealed door made from rock, he wasn't getting out that way, and on the other side was some kind of altar. Nelson pulled himself onto his feet and approached the forgotten stone platform, there was something on it, a round metal disc that was about two inches in diameter and half a centre meter thick with a smooth hole in its midpoint. Upon the altar were more etchings, and it appeared to be some kind of writing that Nelson could not read.

He could not help but pick the disc up and examine it. As he lifted the object he found that it was much lighter than he had expected it to be, and then suddenly it began to glow. The disc was consumed by a green digital pattern that gleamed bright in his hands. Then, as if set off by some chain reaction, the same pattern appeared glowing green-blue across the pillars, floor and walls.

Nelson was completely captivated, the sight that was before him stood beyond reasoning and he began to question whether or not he was dreaming, he even pinched himself to make sure. Suddenly, almost as quickly as it had started, the lights switched off and all was dark. Nelson was then able to hear the sound of voices above him.

'Nelson, are you there? Can you hear us?' It was Collingwood.

Nelson quickly slipped the disk into his muddy jacket pocket and then responded. 'I was wrong, the roots were not as strong as I thought they were.'

Above him Nelson heard the bellowing laugh of Collingwood, followed by his other companions. 'You crazy bastard.' He shouted down, 'Get ready and we'll throw you a rope.'

As he said, a thick ravel of rope dropped to the ground at Nelsons feet and he gripped it firmly with both hands and began to climb. After only a short struggle he was once again on the surface, and near the entrance to the temple that had gotten him into this entire mess.

By now the sun had fallen and it was almost completely dark. 'Come, let's return to camp.' Nelson said sorely, 'I've had enough of this place anyway.'

Nelson needed to use Collingwood and another person to support him as he limped all the way back to camp.


	7. Chapter 7 - Assassin's

**Chapter 7 – Assassins**

_"The most dangerous enemy is one that you cannot see."_

_'31__st__ July 1777,_

_My team and I only have half a day left on the island before we must return to our ship. We have been working all morning, taking notes on all of the samples that we had collected from the jungle. I still possess the mysterious artefact from the temple, what I saw was real even if it cannot be explained. It was incredible, what ever it is it made me feel completely powerless, like it had drained me. I am also beginning to see things, I think, a building standing alone or the wreck of an old ship, perhaps it is just heat or perhaps it is something else…'_

The powerful midday sun glared down and sucked the energy from Nelson and his team as they carried their things back into the rowboat. Nelson drained the last of his water bottle and discarded it, tossing it into the boat. It was then that he began to have another hallucination. Nelson looked out to the ocean and in the distance he saw an island, the beach stretched far back and the centre of the island was covered with trees and other plants. Nelson closed his eyes shut and then when he re-opened them, the island was gone from his vision.

'It must be the heat,' he told himself again as he ravaged through the supplies for more water. Suddenly Nelson heard a noise coming from the tree line, sticks being trampled on. When he looked up he caught the slightest glimpse of a fully cloaked figure, moving about the trees. The ghost probably wasn't real, but Nelson had to be sure. He gathered his sword belt and made his way into the trees, pursuing the hooded stranger. Again he saw the back of a white hood and some kind of short cape, with a red trim along the edges.

'Who are you?' Nelson shouted, almost certain the figure was real.

The stranger disappeared again and Nelson followed blindly until he found himself standing alone and exposed in the centre of a small grass clearing. Sweating and confused, Nelson spun around, searching for the ghost that he was chasing. Suddenly he was forced to the ground by the strength of a human body. He was winded as he hit the ground and when he glanced up he found that the person on top of him was a woman, a very attractive woman.

The woman's muscles were surprisingly firm and she was very well toned. She had hazel brown eyes that were shaded by the tip of her hood. Her nose was small, like a cute little button, and her skin was fair and smooth. Her lips were full and glossy red and her teeth were white and clean behind them.

The woman had drawn a short blade and held it to Nelson's throat. It protruded from a leather bracer attached to the woman's wrist, a curious little device. Nelson rolled back and threw the woman off onto the grass, this gave him time to draw his sword and ready himself for combat. The woman had done the same and now she held a curved short-blade, aimed directly at Nelson's chest.

'If it is blood that you are after, you will have to do a lot better than that.' Nelson mocked the assassin's weapon and then jabbed his sabre at her chest. Now that the woman was standing, Nelson noticed that she wore a brown leather corset that kept her waist tight and thin. Her arms were bare and her cloak hung down to the ends of her knees, her legs were clothed with simple white pants.

As the assassin jumped back from Nelson's jab, her breast raised slightly from her cotton bodice. She retaliated by taking a full turn and then sweeping Nelson's blade to the side.

'I do not seek blood, nor words.' The woman spoke strongly, her voice was hard but also sweet. 'I only seek the artefact that you hold in your pocket.'

The woman pointed with her curved short-blade at Nelson's right jacket pocket and Nelson lowered his sword.

'How do you know about that? Who are you?' He asked.

'My name is Elizabeta. I followed you into the jungle yesterday.' She slid her short-blade back into its sheath. 'I am part of a very old order known as the Assassin's.'

'The Assassins?' Nelson questioned.

'Yes, I saw you fall into the temple where you found that artefact, and I need to return it to my master back on the Lowestoffe.'  
Nelson needed time to process what he was being told. 'Wait up a second, who is your master?' He asked.

Elizabeta smiled, 'Captain Locker.'

Nelson sheathed his sword and then recovered his hat from where it had fallen, 'I will believe your story for now,' he said, 'But only so I can get off this island and speak with Locker.'

Elizabeta led the way through the trees and back to the beach, Nelson stayed close behind. When they returned to camp Collingwood and the others had the boat packed and ready to take off into the deep blue ocean. Collingwood showed a puzzled expression at the sight of Elizabeta.

'She is a friend.' Nelson explained. 'To assist in the expedition, you go ahead and I will take her boat.'

Nelson and Elizabeta followed the beach until they found the spot where Elizabeta had beached her rowboat. Nelson pushed the boat into the water and then gestured for her to step in, 'Ladies first.' He smiled.

Elizabeta climbed gracefully into the boat and took up the oars as Nelson followed her.

The ocean was calm and they rowed in silence back to the HMS Lowestoffe, the silence occasionally broken by Nelson's cough or something of a similar matter. As Nelson climbed back onto the deck of the ship, he was greeted by a young sailor with short greasy hair and a scar on his forehead.

Nelson wasted no time with simple greetings. 'Where is the captain?' He demanded.

The sailor reacted to Nelson's tone with concern. 'He is in his cabin. He doesn't want to be disturbed.'

Nelson had pushed past the sailor and was now marching with long strides towards the captain's quarters. He knocked once and then opened the heavy wooden door without asking permission.

Captain Locker rose from his desk, infuriated by the unannounced intrusion. 'Nelson!' He shouted, 'What is the meaning of this?'

Elizabeta stepped into the cabin and stood next to Nelson with her head down, as a sign of respect. 'Sir, he has the key.'

Suddenly captain Lockers mood changed from angered to eager. 'You have it? Let me see.'

At first Nelson was reluctant to retrieve the artefact from his pocket.

'That's an order, boy.' Locker commanded.

Nelson reached into his jacket and pulled out the circular disk, placing it on Locker's desk. Locker stared wide-eyed at the little artefact in complete awe. 'I have finally found it.' He whispered in great relief.

As Nelson watched, the artefact began to glow again, and it made all the other lights in the small cabin appear dim. The others seemed completely oblivious to the change in light, and Nelson thought it was just another hallucination.

'Are you alright?' Locker asked.

Nelson began to feel light headed. 'Can't you see that? The light?'

Both Locker and Elizabeta looked confused, then Locker gave an order to Elizabeta. 'Close the door, now.'

Elizabeta turned around and pushed the heavy cabin door shut while Locker spoke to Nelson. 'You're a part of this now, whether you like it or not. It looks like I may have some explaining to do.'

Once again the glowing lights in Nelson's head disappeared and all light in the cabin was back to normal.


	8. Chapter 8 - Things You See In Your Head

**Chapter 8 – The Things You See In Your Head**

_"Keeping your mind open is just as important as keeping your body strong."_

_'31__st__ July 1777,_

_Why is this happening? How is this happening? Can I trust my new friend in the other side of the rowboat? These questions can't yet be answered; hopefully Captain Locker – the supposed assassin – can help me. As for Elizabeta, never before have I seen a woman like her, she is strong willed and skilled with a sword, it is a mystery. Maybe she is just another hallucination…'_

Captain Locker sat at his desk, his dark hair was tied up at the back of his head and he held in his hand a pipe, which he began to fill with tobacco as he spoke. Nelson and Elizabeta sat on little wooded chairs on the other side of the desk.

'Elizabeta and I are part of a secret order known as the Assassins. For centuries we have helped to maintain peace and security in the world, working in darkness to keep people like you safe from dangerous societies such as the Templars. The Templars seek only power and control over others, they would rule the world if there was no one there to stop them.' Locker glanced down at the artefact that was sitting on his desk. 'This is where your little artefact comes in. This artefact is a key, built by those who came before; the first society.'

Nelson wasn't exactly sure what Locker meant by the first society, he didn't really want to know, so he remained silent.

Locker gave a slight chuckle. 'This key is one of many, spread all across the globe, once all keys have been found it is said that they will reveal the location to one of the pieces of Eden, also known as the apple. The pieces of Eden are powerful objects, possessing knowledge and power beyond all imagining. If the Templars were to get hold of one, great and terrible things would happen, and that is why we must find them before the Templars do.' Locker watched Nelson's expression carefully. 'I do not expect you to believe all of this, Nelson, but I simply ask that you help us until it is done."

For a long moment Nelson remained still, and then he nodded and Locker continued to speak.

'Good, now you mentioned that you saw the key light up as well as other hallucinations.'

'Yes.' Nelson replied, 'I saw an island, some building and all these other things, landmarks I think.'

Before Locker could speak, Elizabeta cut in. 'When I went to the temple where Nelson found the key, there was an inscription carved into the altar beneath it but I could not read what it said.'

Locker thought for a moment, and then spoke. 'Can you remember what the writing looked like? Could you write it down?' He asked.

Elizabeta stood up and strode over to Lockers desk, he gave her a pen and she began to draw lines onto a piece of paper.

When she was done Locker stared at the strange collection of symbols whilst stroking his beard. 'Yes.' He said, 'Yes, I know this writing.'

Nelson couldn't imagine how.

Locker read the inscription out loud in English. 'It says: "The path to immortality will only be revealed to he who has seen through the eyes of the first."'

'Well what does that mean?' Asked Elizabeta.

Locker put the inscription down on his desk and turned his head towards Nelson. 'It means that Nelson here is the only person among us who can find the other keys. Your hallucinations are like parts of a map, and that is how we will find the other keys and the eventually the piece of Eden.'

Suddenly Nelson was afraid. 'I'm sorry, but I can't do this.' He said solemnly, 'I'm just a sailor, not an Assassin on some noble quest to save the world.'

Locker stood up from his desk. 'I don't think you understand boy, this isn't up to you.' Locker put on his jacket and strapped his sword belt around his waist. 'The key chose you, and now I am choosing you. Go find the other piece's, that's an order. The Assassin's are counting on you to complete this mission, Elizabeta and myself will be here to help when we can, but the rest is on you. Now, return to the deck and begin training, you're a fighting man now.'

Nelson collected the key and walked out of the cabin and onto the open deck, Elizabeta followed close behind.

'You already fight well.' Elizabeta pointed out as they walked together across deck, 'I am yet to meet a man who can best me in a fair duel.'

Nelson laughed, 'I find that hard to believe.' He said humorously.

Elizabeta shrugged her shoulders, 'Perhaps one day soon we will find out.'

'I might just have to take you up on that.' Nelson challenged.


	9. Chapter 9 - Answers That Spout Questions

**Chapter 9 – Answers That Sprout Questions**

The animus screen faded to blue and then shut off in the blink of an eye. Jacob winced at the sudden change in environment. Once again he was back in the lab, laying down and strapped into the animus. He heard a slight 'click' and then he recognised Stacy White's flowing red hair as she leaned over and pulled the animus screen to the side.

'How do you feel?' Doctor Hill asked promptly from his seat beside the animus.

Jacob sat up and Stacy rushed in to help him keep his balance. 'I feel like crap. But I got to say, that was incredible.'

Jacob began to massage his temple with his right hand on account of the throbbing headache he now had. 'So this so called 'treasure' is that artefact, the piece of Eden?'

'That's right.' Said Dr Hill.

'And what about these Assassin's? And the Templars? They were after this because it was some kind of divine power. Is all that first civilisation stuff real? Were there really others?'

Doctor Hill seemed a little impatient, but he answered the questions. 'The animus is a device designed using that specific technology, much like these pieces of Eden and the key that Lord Nelson found in that temple. Although we do not yet understand the full capabilities of all this technology, the few people who know about it have found it all over the world, artefacts dating back as old as time.'

Again Jacob began to feel sceptical, but for now the animus was proof enough that there definitely was something extraordinary going on. There were still so many questions, 'So why do you…?"

Doctor Hill cut him off. 'That's enough questions for now.' He said conspicuously. 'It's getting late, and you will need more rest if you are to continue in the animus tomorrow. Go, Mrs White will show you to your room.'

Stacy showed off her bright shy smile as she moved to lead Jacob to his room, 'Here it is, get plenty of rest.' She said kindly, 'There is a long day ahead of us tomorrow.'

The room was small, just a square box made with metal doors and walls. There was only enough room for a bed, a dresser and a toilet.

Jacob had one last question. 'Stacy, how long will I have to do this for?'

'As long as it takes, goodnight.' The door slid over and then was sealed.

Suddenly Jacob felt trapped, but there was no going back now. The thought still remained in his head 'what are they planning to do with the piece of Eden?'


	10. Chapter 10 - The Hunt Begins

**Chapter 10 – The Hunt Begins**

_"Always know when to underestimate your enemies."_

_'2__nd__ August 1777,_

_Despite my newly appointed task, the past two days have been rather boring. I have carried out my regular duties on deck and now I await further orders from captain Locker. I suspect that soon Locker will send me away, in pursuit of another one of his precious keys on roads untraveled. I recently had a vision of jungle trees and a river, but I don't exactly know how that can help me. At least I will be fortunate enough to have Elizabeta's company, I have grown rather fond of the girl and after seven years at sea a women's company is always greatly cherished…'_

Once again the hot midday sun beat down on the _HMS Lowestoffe _and her crew. The birds soared high above them, and were the only patches of white in the clear empty sky. Nelson rested on deck where he was enjoying his lunch, biscuits and dry meat. Elizabeta joined him, as well as Collingwood, and together they sat and talked while they ate. After some urging from Nelson and Collingwood, Elizabeta told them the story of how she came to be an assassin, a captivating tale that Nelson listened to with much interest.

'When I was no older than nine years of age,' She started. 'My family served one of the richest families on all of France. We were happy and we were safe. The family that I grew up with was wide and powerful, they had a great political influence and all that stuff that I don't really care about.'

Elizabeta went on. 'Anyway, one night my father had caught the lord of the family, Lord Antoine something, I can't remember. He was cheating on his wife with another woman, probably some whore that he found or one of the servants. Can you believe it? My father had served Lord Antoine for quite some time, but I don't think he cared about my father's loyalty and my father knew it too. Lord Antoine payed my father to keep quiet, said that if anyone found out about the affair the family name would be ruined.

The next day my father got me and my mother and we ran off to Amsterdam because he knew that Antoine would never trust a man like him to keep his word, thought that my father was too noble for that. My father disguised himself as a tradesman and took a cart, but on the way we were ambushed by some hired thugs, I would assume. My father took a knife to the chest and my mother was dragged away by some boys, they couldn't have been older than fifteen. I thought that I was as good as dead, there were men everywhere trying to get me, and then he came.'

Elizabeta paused to add effect. 'One man, he came out of nowhere, and with his white cloak and hidden blades he killed seven men. The rest of the thugs ran for their lives, they were scared shitless.' Elizabeta laughed and then was serious again. 'When it was safe the man in the white cloak went to my father, who was still alive. With his last dying breath my father thanked the stranger, and then asked him to see that his daughter was safe.

I remember watching my father die, and then the man closed his eyes and laid him softly on the ground. He came over to me and allowed me to see his face underneath the hood, he had the bluest eyes I have ever seen, they were like sapphires. Then he said to me: "There is only one life that I will be able to give you, and it is not a very good one." At first I had no idea what he meant, then as I got older he taught me the ways of the assassin. I have killed many men so far in my time, and some women, and because of it I have also saved many lives. So, now I am here under captain Locker's command and attempting to win another futile battle against the Templars.' Elizabeta stared at her food for a moment. 'It is not a great story but it is mine.

For a long while everyone was silent, and then one of the listening sailors spoke out. 'Do you really expect us all to believe that a puny little thing like you is an assassin?' The sailor had the slurred voice of a drunk.

'That's the truth.' Elizabeta stated.

'I bet I could beat you in a fight with one hand tied behind my back.' The sailor challenged slowly.

Now Nelson spoke, 'I would like to see that.'

All the commotion had gathered most of the rest of the crew and now they stood in a circle around where Elizabeta and the challenger stood, over the cargo hold.

One of the seamen tossed the half-drunk challenger a sword and Elizabeta drew out her own blade. Nelson took note of Elizabeta's strong stance and stature. She had discarded her white assassin outfit and was now dressed as a common sailor wearing a white long-sleeved shirt, a pair of dark brown trousers and some black boots. Her blonde hair was tied into a single flowing stream that hung down her back.

Without her hood on, Nelson could see that Elizabeta's brown eyes were bright with enthusiasm on her pretty face. Then Nelson looked at Elizabeta's sword. The hilt was coloured gold with a leather type strip around the handle to add better grip. From the handle protrude the long clean blade that curved slightly towards the tip.

As Nelson had expected, the half drunk sailor attacked first and his strikes were swift and powerful. Elizabeta handled her attacker with ease, as he made no attempt to hide his movements. When she spotted her opportunity Elizabeta brushed the sailors blade to the side and cut him with one stroke across the chest. The sailor's shirt split open and blood seeped out from the wound beneath it. The man winced with pain and before he could retaliate Elizabeta's sword was thrust at his neck. Elizabeta held her sword still in the killing position, the end of her blade caressed the mans neck as she spoke, 'Do you yield?' She demanded firmly as she flicked her blonde hair out of her eyes.

The defeated sailor cursed. 'I yield.'

Elizabeta smiled in her victory and then immediately turned towards Nelson. 'Nelson.' She called, 'I seek a real fight, get your sword.'

My God, she's going to challenge every man on the ship, Nelson thought.

Nelson stood up slowly and paced into the arena shaped by the rest of the crew.

Suddenly a voice came bellowing over from behind the crowd. 'Stop this!'

It was captain Locker. 'Nelson, I have new orders for you.' His voice was suddenly soft but authoritative again. 'You and Elizabeta are to meet me in my cabin at once.' Locker turned and face Elizabeta, 'I can't have you embarrassing my sailors like that. No more fighting on deck, do you understand?'

Elizabeta bowed her head slightly. 'Yes sir.'

'As for the rest of you, return to your stations.'

The men mumbled to each other as they broke out and continued their work. When Locker had returned to his cabin, Nelson and Elizabeta sat patiently in two wooden chairs as if they were children.

'Tomorrow morning we will be docking at Port Royale.' Locker sat down at his desk. 'When we arrive I will be putting you under the command of Sir Peter Parker. Now, he will think it is because of your excellent finds at the Caicos Islands. Remember that Sir Parker has no idea about the Assassin's, and I'd like to keep it that way. Elizabeta will be serving with you to keep you safe. Track down the other keys. We suspect that there is one somewhere in one of the Spanish territories, perhaps Nicaragua, start there. Are there any questions?'

'Can Collingwood accompany us?' Nelson asked, 'He is a good sailor and I would like him by my side on this mission.'

Captain Locker hesitated for a moment. 'Very well, but he is not to learn of our true purpose, and that's an order.'

Nelson and Elizabeta were dismissed and they left Locker's cabin together.

'We still haven't had that duel.' Elizabeta said promptly.

Nelson laughed. 'One day, I promise.'


	11. Chapter 11 - The HMS Bristol

**Chapter 11 – The HMS Bristol**

_"Cherish the little things in life."_

_'3__rd__ August 1777,_

_I slept easier last night now that I know what I am supposed to do. Soon Elizabeta, Collingwood and I will be serving a new commander. I trust Sir Parker will be a honourable man. As for my mission, the key is most likely going to be in a temple like before. If the Spanish have captured the temple then my best chance of locating the key would be to learn the location of all Spanish outposts and forts, and to do that I will have to capture a ship. In due time the French will be supporting the Americans in the war, and although this may serve as extra prize money for Parker it certainly does not help serve my cause…'_

The morning sun peaked over the tall clock tower in the centre of the town as Nelson followed captain Locker through the streets of Port Royale. Nelson thought that it was a very lively place.

To the left of the pier the crew moved off and headed for the tavern. Here Locker's men will certainly take their fill of drink and women before resting and retuning to open sea, left only with memories of a pleasant night out. The thought amused Nelson.

Unfortunately for he and Collingwood, they were not able to join in on the fun. They and Elizabeta followed Locker down the narrow straight path that led to the town centre. At one stage whilst approaching their destination Nelson tripped over a chicken that was running around in the dirt. The fat little bird squawked and shrieked and it flapped its wings around and ran off behind a building. While Elizabeta laughed at how silly he looked, Nelson caught notice of the pleasant smell of freshly baked bread. Despite the embarrassment of falling over a chicken, Nelson stood up and brushed himself off so that he could go in search of the fresh bread. He found it sitting in a basket on a shop window seal.

'Fresh bread!' Nelson exclaimed, 'I thought I would never see fresh bread again in my life!'

Most sea men like Nelson had grown accustomed to stale hard bread.

Nelson was soon called back to the group by captain Locker. 'Nelson!' He yelled, 'Get back here. We have a job to do.'

'Let him be, the poor lad probably hasn't tasted proper food in months.'

Out from the garden that surrounded the main tower came a man. He walked firmly with his hands held behind his back. Nelson noticed that the man was relatively short for a navy person, however his clean navy blue navy jacket and un-creased trousers, as well as his black tri-corn captains hat showed that he was a clear figure of authority.

'We've got the best bakery in all the Caribbean here in Port Royale. The baker is a friend of mine, hand picked by the governor himself.'

'Sir Peter, it's good to see you.' Captain Locker offered a strong handshake that was accepted by Parker.

'I can see that Port Royale has improved since last I visited.' Locker spoke in a conversational tone.

'That is has, my men were utterly bored here until they built that tavern.' Parker pointed to the tavern down the road, 'But now it's a damn challenge for me to get them to do any work.' Sir Peter's expression changed, 'I've enjoyed my stay here, but think it's time for me to get back out into open waters.'

Captain Locker saw the opportunity to bring up his offer. 'That is partly the reason why I am here. Allow me to introduce you to Horatio Nelson. He has made excellent research on the wildlife at the Caicos Islands. I thought it might interest you. Consider him a gift, and two others, the finest of my crew.'

Nelson, Elizabeta and Collingwood stood in a line, and Sir Parker's eyes ran up and down each of them. He observed Nelson thoroughly, nodding and grunting as he judged Nelson's worth as a sailor.

At last Parker spoke, 'I would be delighted to have all three of you on board. We leave as soon as I can gather my men. Please, help yourselves to whatever to need while you wait.'

Parker walked off down the street with Locker by his side, and the young trio were left exactly where they stood under the clock tower.

'Well he's much more polite than what I thought he'd be.' Collingwood muttered.

Nelson laughed and slowly began to walk back towards the pier, and then he stopped and went over to the bakery. The man behind the counter was fat, and he offered Nelson a wide smile as he approached.

'You look like a sailor who hasn't tasted fresh bread in a long time. We get a lot of you.' The baker's voice was deep and polite. 'Come, we make the best bread in town. Here, try some.'

The baker handed Nelson a piece of soft warm bread. After eating it Nelson instantly reached into his pocket and drew out some coins. After buying two loaves of bread, Nelson packed the food into his satchel and continued towards the pier. When they reached the waterfront Nelson sat down with Elizabeta and Collingwood and they ate as they observed the great _HMS Bristol_, floating gently out in the centre of the harbour.

The _Bristol _was a magnificent vessel, her mast stood tall and her recently replaced sails were white and unscathed. The name of the ship was painted elegantly in yellow, standing in contrast with the dark blue hull of the ship.

'I must admit she is quite beautiful.' Nelson spoke as he finished eating his bread.

'Yes, but what about the firepower.' Elizabeta pointed out. 'I never understood why you would relate a ship to a woman.'

'You clearly haven't been at sea very long.' Nelson stated.

Collingwood butted in. 'According to Locker's records the _Bristol _has about twelve guns each side. That's just enough to blow your average French or Spanish ship to splinters.'

'And she'll probably outrun most of them too.' Nelson agreed.

Elizabeta admitted that she was not a very seaworthy person but she was not embarrassed by her lack of knowledge, 'I am an assassin, not a sailor.' She argued. 'And don't talk down on me, Nelson. We are yet to have that duel.'

It was mid afternoon when Sir Parker and his crew arrived and boarded the ship. Immediately preparing it to sail. Nelson was assigned his tasks and sleeping quarters, a hammock in the corner beneath the deck. When he was settled in, Nelson returned to the quarterdeck and helped Sir Parker set the ship on course. The ship breezed gracefully across the water and away from the port, which made Nelson feel strangely relieved.

Sir Parker ran around the deck and began barking orders out to his men 'Secure those ropes! Lock down the powder kegs! Swab the deck!'

Then Parker turned to Nelson. 'Locker seemed to have had a lot of faith in you. I hope he was right. Ever been in combat boy?'

'Yes sir.' Nelson answered 'A few times, during an escort mission to Bombay.'

'Good, because the chances are you'll be seeing more bloodshed soon enough.'

Nelson wasn't sure whether to be exited or scared by this, he just passed it from his mind and went to get his supper.


	12. Chapter 12 - Master And Commander

**Chapter 12 – Master and Commander**

_"Never ignore your instincts."_

_'1st December 1778,_

_More Spanish and French ships fall to the wrath of Sir Parker and the HMS Bristol, yet more than a year has passed and still I am no closer to finding what I seek. Do they know what the Assassin's are after? My suspicions rise as upon boarding the last Spanish ship, the captain set fire to his quarters and burned all of his maps and charts. Never the less I have earned an estimated €400 in prize money and am quite proud, but I will not rest easy until my task is complete and I have the maps that I need…'_

'Nelson! I told you to go and help the others clean the muskets.' Parkers voice was surprisingly loud for such a small figure. 'The French are close.' He murmured. 'Another smelly bucket of wood to pluck from our waters, and a good deal of prize money to go with it.' Parker laughed, 'Now go see to those muskets, actually wait. Go find Dannie down by his quarters, he could probably use a hand sharpening the sabres and the rest of the weapons.'

Nelson nodded briefly, 'Yes sir.' Before heading down the hatch below deck.

Nelson never stayed below deck if he could help it, he found it too stuffy and smelly. The _Bristol_ had been at sea for too long and the ship was ever so slowly beginning to fester. Nelson had grown a thin black beard and he no longer tended to his hair. It was now past his shoulders and riddled with knots.

Dannie was found in a room near the chef's workplace, the man's large build nearly obscured the doorway. Nelson watched Dannie trying to carry two small wooden boxes containing all types of weapons from daggers to sabres. When Dannie nearly dropped one of the boxes onto the floor, Nelson rushed in.

'Here, let me help.' Nelson took one of the boxes in his arms, it was extremely heavy and he wondered how Dannie managed to lift both of them at once.

'Thanks, better get these nice n' sharp quick. I gotta feeling Captn' Parker is closin' in on those French mongrels.'

Nelson smiled weakly and then set his box down near the grindstone. He suspected to be working for a few hours at the most. At least there was a window to let some air and light in.

Dannie set his box down next to Nelson's. 'Alright, I'll sharpen 'em, you clean 'em.'

Nelson collected all of the oil and cloths that he would need, and then one by one as the swords were handed to him he cleaned and polished them. As he worked Nelson watched Dannie on the grindstone, he was big and muscly but gentle when he needed to be. He only wore a brown tunic and some trousers, his short greasy hair was sleek with sweat after a while working the grind stone and so was his tunic.

Nelson then turned his thoughts to the up coming battle and the French ship that Sir Parker was tracking. 'Is this the one that I am looking for? Have I finally located the charts that are needed?' He had to make sure this time that he did not lose the captains charts, he and Elizabeta and Collingwood would see to that.

Dannie was clearly growing tired of sharpening swords, as his pedalling slowed and the stone rotated slower.

'We've been at this for a good couple of hours.' Nelson said, 'I say we take a break.'

Dannie stood up from the grindstone, 'Aye, I need a drink. Some rum'll definitely hit the spot.'

It was past noon when Nelson emerged onto the deck and into the bright of day. Sir Parker stood at the quarterdeck with his coxswain. The rest of the crew stood around, casually managing the ship. The sudden silence seemed slightly disturbing until it was broken by Elizabeta's shouts, coming from all the way up in the crows nest. 'Captain! There is a ship fast approaching from the Southwest! She's coming up behind us!'

Sir Parker glanced at Elizabeta and then pulled out his telescope and observed the oncoming vessel. 'Nelson! Get over here.' He cried.

Nelson run up the steps and stood next to the Captain, although not directly next to him so that their comparison in height would make Parker feel small. The entire crew was cautious of that.

Parker gave Nelson the telescope, 'Take a look.' He ordered.

'French?' Nelson asked as he raised the scope to his eye.

'Most likely but we can't know for certain, not yet.'

Suddenly Collingwood was with them on the quarterdeck, 'The French are slimy bastards. Always sneaking up behind you and stabbing you in the back. How did they circle 'round so fast?'

'Are we to engage? Captain?'

Parker took the telescope from Nelson and observed the ship once again. 'She's certainly a fast ship but the _Bristol _carries the heavier load of firepower.' Parker snapped his telescope shut and put it away. 'Ready the cannons and prepare to engage them head on.'

Nelson repeated the order to the crew, 'Ready the guns!' He shouted with a hint of excitement.

Right away the men on the deck began to run back and forth, each moving to his station with rehearsed accuracy. After some time the distance between the two ships grew shorter and Sir Parker was able to point out the men aboard the enemy ship.

'Yep, those are French all right. I can see the flag. Prepare to engage, we're taking the ship.'

Everyone, on both ships, was ready for battle and as the French vessel drifted nearer a man in a purple jacket and feathered hat spoke in English through a little cone that he held to his mouth. Unfortunately no one on the _Bristol _could understand what was being said because of the distance between the two ships, that and the French man's perilous accent. Nelson shot Parker a puzzled expression.

'What the devil is he saying?' Parker questioned.

'Do you think he wants us to surrender?' Collingwood pointed out.

The men on the deck had stopped what they were doing in order to listen to the French man's terms. Parker walked over and leaned on the guardrail overlooking the men 'Well alright then, keep going.'

At the first sign that the Bristol was not going to surrender, the French moved into position and Nelson watched them manning the cannons just as he had his own men do. Up close the French ship was smaller than what Nelson had first anticipated, but it was heavily loaded. Upon the ship's blue-green hull was the single word 'Brise' meaning breeze. The two ships were almost along side now and suddenly Nelson had a bad gut instinct. 'Why would they attack a larger ship like this?' he thought, 'Do they have some kind of plan?'

Either way it was too late to pull away. The first thing Nelson did was order his best marksmen into position. 'Andrew, Collingwood, Elizabeta, James.' The four people turned towards Nelson. 'Take a musket and shoot down their gunners before they can fire. Take position here, in the rigging, over there and up on the bow.'

The four gunners took up their firearms and readied themselves without question.

It was now time for Nelson to give his gunners the order to fire. If he did it too early the last gunners might miss their target, but too soon and the French would fire first. Nelson began to sweat as he raised his arm in the air. 'Marksmen, fire when ready!'

A musket went off, and then another and another, all across the ship and the shooters were clouded in a white cloak of gun smoke. Then one of the French gunmen's heads exploded as one of the bullets struck, splattering blood and brains across the deck.

Nelson decided that the time was now, 'Fire!' He shouted.

One by one all of the _Bristol's _cannons fired and the two ships were enclosed in a mess of gun smoke and splinters. Nelson detected the sound of French cries as cannon balls ripped through the enemy deck and cut down most of the crew. Some of Sir Parkers men were cut down by French fire and parts of the hull now had big gaping holes in it, but the damage was nothing that couldn't be repaired.

'Get a cable on that ship and prepare to board!' Nelson ran over and assisted one of the men in throwing a rope and steel cable hook across to the enemy ship. Several of these hooks were thrown across and now the two ships were locked tightly together as the cables snapped into place. Sir Parker led the way as Dannie threw down a wide wooden boarding plank and locked it in place. Then Nelson and the others followed their captain and met the opposing French forces on their own deck.

Nelson's first opponent was a big man with a shaved head and a thick dark beard. The man swung his sword at Nelsons ribs and Nelson was able to parry the blow and counter, cutting a clean stroke along the man's neck. Blood spurted from the wound and trickled from the man's mouth as he groped at his neck and fell onto his knees.

Another attacker ran at Nelson, screaming and swinging a hatchet side to side. The screaming man suddenly stopped as Elizabeta ran behind him and drove her dagger between his shoulders. She pushed the body into another French fighter and continued to battle. The violence continued but soon enough Sir Parker and his men had finished off the last of the French sailors. The rest of the enemy was scattered and hiding below the deck. It appeared that the battle had ended, but Nelson was still fearful of something.

He watched some of the remaining French as they fled down their hatches and to the cabins below the deck.

'No, this was far too easy.' Nelson said out loud.

As he spoke some of the other men attempted to pursue the survivors below deck, but as one of the men opened the hatch, someone below stuck a pistol in his face and fired. The man's skull was shattered by the blast and he dropped to the deck. Suddenly dozens of properly armoured fighting men rushed out from the cabins and surrounded Nelson and his men.

Again the ship erupted in chaos with cries and the clashing of metal. The bloodshed was so intense that Nelson nearly slipped on the blood that soaked the deck. Soon into the fight, Nelson, Elizabeta and Collingwood found themselves trapped against the side rail of the ship. Elizabeta had lost her sword and was fighting against the men with her hidden blades. Two men with scimitars rushed at her, with her left blade she parried a blow and was able to take hold of the man's fighting arm. She then twisted the blade out of the man's hand and used it to cut the others throat.

The disarmed man drew a knife and charged Elizabeta but she simply drove her hidden blade into the man's eye socket and he fell dead to the ground. Nelson stood beside Collingwood as he fought against a man wielding a steel battle-axe. The man already had a deep stab wound in his shoulder that slurred his movements and as he swung his axe, Nelson cut the man along the thigh and pushed him over the rail and into the sea below.

The battle was not looking good, and from what Nelson could see, the ambushers had cut down the majority of Parker's crew. The remainder of Nelson's allies were bunched up at the end of the ship. For a moment Nelson feared that he was going to die, and there was nothing left for him to do but fight to the death. It was in that final moment of despair that he noticed something, a way out.

Nelson called to Elizabeta 'I know how to get us out of this. I need your help.'

Elizabeta spoke back 'What are we going to do?'

Nelson pointed towards the smaller cannons behind of mass of the ambushers, 'Grape Shot.' He said in a simple tone and he covertly climbed over the ships rail. Elizabeta followed him and together they scaled the side of the ship until they were in the centre. Nelson climbed back over the rail and immediately set to work loading the small cannon with a bag of grape shot. Elizabeta cut down an oncoming attacker with her hidden blades and then handed Nelson the lighting burner.

The cannon was all set and Nelson was ready to fire. 'Brace yourself.' He said loudly.

Elizabeta covered her ears and Nelson lined up the shot so that he could take out the majority of the ambushers without killing any of his own men. He touched the burner to the fuse and within seconds the cannon exploded with overwhelming fury, letting out a burst of shot that swept across the deck and devastated nearly all of the attackers before it. Once the smoke had cleared, Nelson saw the enormity of his action. His enemy was lying in bloody piles on the hard wood floor. Some men were completely blown to pieces; others were wounded and were bleeding out, still crying in agony. Those that were missed by the grape shot were quickly overpowered and killed by Sir Parker and his men. The battle was victorious.

For Nelson the aftermath was the worst part. The dead French soldiers and sailors had to be removed from the deck and tossed into the ocean. For the wounded it was best to simply put them out of their misery and have them join the others in the depths of the sea. Nelson could not handle walking around on the blood-smeared deck anymore, and he searched eagerly for something else to do.

Sir Parker was running around bellowing orders to the remainder of his men, and trying to get the ship cleaned up as soon as possible. 'Nelson, how many casualties were there?' He ordered.

Nelson glanced around both ships. 'Only about twenty-six of our men remain, sir.'

'God be damned.' Parker said solemnly, 'Almost the entire crew, good men, lost to those French bastards.' Parker kicked one of the dead bodies with short outrage.

'This was a planned ambush.' Nelson stated. 'They knew that we were onto them from the start, and they lured us into their mouse trap.'

One of Parker's men, a tall lad, approached with a line of heavily guarded French prisoners behind him. The men stared with cold eyes and their entire bodies were covered with blood and wounds. The tall boy spoke, 'Sir, we have prisoners.'

Parker stared at the boy as he waited patiently for a command. 'Kill them.' He paused, 'No wait. Keep them alive.'

'You plan on sending them back to Port Royale?' Nelson questioned.

'We have too few men to sail both ships at once.' Parker explained, 'I will appoint you as the new commander of this ship. Take the cargo and its prisoners back to Port Royale. You can have twelve men as well as the four prisoners, see her home safely.' Parker patted Nelson on the shoulder and returned to giving commands.

Nelson left the rest of the cleaning up to his crew and made his way to the captain's cabin. His men searched every crack and crevice and brought out all of the French who were hiding within the ship. Those that tried to fight were killed, and the rest were brought to Sir Parker. At last Nelson reached his destination. The captain's room was spacious, a large wooden desk sat in the middle, and there was a small bed along the wall, a cupboard in the corner and a wide window along the back wall, directly behind the desk.

Nelson sat himself down in the captain's chair and observed the pile of documents that were spread out across the wooden desk. The most prominent was a ledger with a thick black leather cover. Nelson flicked through the pages, there were dates, coordinates, cargo lists and all other necessary information and items, presented in legible French hand righting across the worn out pages. Nelson could make out some of the words from his lessons with Frankie, back on the _Raisonnable_. Nelson closed the ledger and moves it aside, he then attempted to open one of the desk draws but it was locked.

At that moment Collingwood entered the room. 'This is a neat little room for a smelly French bastard.' Collingwood laughed mockingly.

Nelson just smiled 'Can you give me a hand with this lock?'

Collingwood stepped over a looked down at Nelson meddling with the draw. 'No, you're doing it wrong. You have to use a pistol.' Collingwood reached behind him and pulled out a flintlock from his belt. He gripped the weapon firmly by the muzzle and using the handle he bashed at the lock until it finally broke and the draw slid open. Nelson complimented Collingwood's creativity. Inside the draw was a collection of maps and charts. With increased eagerness Nelson sifted through the papers until he found what he was looking for, a map listing a number of locations for Spanish outposts, camps and forts. Nelson rolled the map up and held it in front of him with great relief. 'Finally, we have it. We have the map.'

Before anyone could rejoice further there was a sound that came from within the cupboard in the corner. It was a sullen cough, and Nelson instantly knew that there was someone in there. Nelson stood up and drew his sword, holding it ready at his side as he and Collingwood cautiously approached the cupboard. Collingwood placed his hand on the doorknob and when Nelson was ready, he yanked the door open.

'Please! Don't kill me!' A middle-aged man shouted with a heavy French accent. He cowered away into the cupboard. It looked like the French speaker from before. The man seemed to be unarmed, and so Nelson took him by the wrist and hauled him into the open space.

Nelson pointed his sword at the man's throat 'And who might you be?' He asked briefly.

'I am the captain of this ship!' The man retorted. 'You will not get away with this. You will be killed.'

Collingwood chuckled. 'And who is going to kill us? Will it be you?'

The captain stood tall and glared at them with fire in his eyes. Then as Nelson turned away he slipped a small knife from his sleeve and lashed at Nelson with such speed that neither he nor Collingwood saw it coming. Nelson caught the captain's wrist just in time to prevent the blade from piercing deep into his eye. Nelson then pushed the captains knife arm aside but with his other hand the captain was able to punch Nelson in the jaw. The force from the blow knocked Nelson onto the desk. When Collingwood tried to intervene the captain stabbed at his stomach so that he had to dodge away. With a wicked stare, the captain held the knife extended towards Collingwood and he spoke. 'You British don't know what you are doing. You do not know the power that we possess.'

Before the captain could speak anymore Nelson batted him hard over the back of the skull with the hilt of his pistol. The captain fell limp to the ground and lay faced down on the wooden floor. Blood smeared the area of his head that was hit by the pistol.

'Use the pistol.' Nelson laughed with slight agony as he rubbed his jaw.

He fell into the captain's chair, panting for breath, and decided what to do next. 'Take the captain to the deck, when or if he wakes up he can join with the other prisoners. Make haste, we sail for Port Royale immediately.'

Collingwood nodded his head, 'Aye, uh captain.' He uttered as he stepped out of the room.


	13. Chapter 13 - Serpent's Tongue

**Chapter 13 – Serpent's Tongue**

_"One is only valuable to the enemy until he has given them what they want."_

_'5__th__ December 1778,_

_I am now in command of the French vessel 'Brise' and I hold some of her crew as prisoners, including their captain. There is no point in renaming the ship to something more suitable because I will be done with it as soon as I return to Port Royale, and Sir Parker will be assigning me with a much more sturdier vessel. As for my mission, I have the charts that I need however I lack the firepower and proper means to go randomly attacking Spanish outposts. I think Elizabeta and her Assassin's are expecting too much from me, they must remember that I take my orders from my commanders in the Royal Navy and that I am not simply a puppet to the Assassins…'_

The former captain of the '_Brise' _stood shacked in heavy chains, presented before Nelson in his very own cabin. Nelson sat in his comfortable desk chair sorting through the old captain's documents. Anything that he found interesting or important was locked away in a chest by his feet, easily protected. 'I must say,' Nelson spoke brashly to the captain, 'I like the decorating and the way you had this room set out. Although you are very unorganised for a man with such exquisite taste.'

'Go to hell.' The captain mumbled.

Nelson raised his head and stared directly at the man before him. 'Yes, perhaps I will go to hell. I would rather look forward to seeing you there first, or vice versa. You know how it is.'

The captain tilted his head, 'Why would I go to hell? I have done no true wrong. I am not an evil man.'

'Tell me captain, how many lives would you claim for the sake of your country or even your career? A hundred? A thousand? You and I are really not so different.'

'The lives that I claim are not merely for my country.' The captain argued. 'For centuries mankind has spilt blood for the reward of power. I seek to put an end to it.'

'So you are one of them, the Templars.' Nelson waited for the captain to give some kind of confirmation. 'I have been told about your order. You speak of saving the world by taking complete control of it. Tell me captain, what then is to stop you from abusing your power? A single man does not deserve to have the world at his feet. Soon enough this power that you fight for will be your undoing.'

The French captain spat on the floor and he raised his voice. 'And what makes you any better? Assassin!'

'You misunderstand. I am just a sailor carrying out orders. I know of the assassin's, yes. I fight for the assassin's, but I am not one of them.'

'So what is it that you really fight for?' The captain asked.

'I fight for freedom.' Nelson answered. 'If one man must die for many to be free then it is a price I am willing to take.'

Nelson realised that he was getting distracted. 'Now, to business then.' He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key. The digital patterning glowed faintly as Nelson set the small object down in front of him on the desk. 'I have one of these, I need the others and I suspect that you know where one is.'

'Why should I help you?' Said the French captain. 'You have the key and so you can see the way to the others. That is how they work, is it not?'

'All I see are rocks and trees." Nelson said. "I know you have it. There are dozens of outposts and forts scattered all across the new world. The key could be at any of them.' Nelson took out the map he had found earlier and laid it out across the desk. 'You know where it is. Help me out and I can guarantee you your life. Ignore me and you will die, and I assure it will not be a quick death. I have come to terms on my fate with God, and if I must scar my conscience to get what I need then so be it. I know that you value your life, and that of your crew. I think I will start with them first.'

The French captain saw no lie in Nelson's expression and he eventually broke. 'Okay!' He begged. 'They are here.' The captain pointed to a spot on the map.

'Nicaragua.' Nelson said the location out loud. 'How do I know you're telling the truth?'

'You don't.' Said the French man. 'There is no way for you to know.'

Nelson accepted this. He had all of the information that he needed and so he dismissed the captain. 'Go join your men on deck.' And as the captain left the room he added, 'Just remember, I am a man of my word. Cooperate with me and you will live, fail to do so and you will die.'

Nelson stayed at his new desk until late afternoon when he decided to check up on his crew. He was confident in Collingwood to keep the ship on course and hold an eye over the prisoners. As he stepped out onto the quarterdeck he saw that all seemed well. Nelson rolled out his charts and with his new coxswain Anderson he jotted down the ships current coordinates.

'With strong winds and smooth sailing we should be back in Port Royale within three days, sir.'

Anderson was only young, or he looked it anyway. He was short and he always wore a red bandana over his muggy blonde hair. The boy was experienced and he took orders like any good sailor would. He was the kind of person that Nelson wanted in his future crew.

Nelson adjusted their course and ordered Anderson to take the wheel. The large wooden contraption creaked noisily as it turned on its spokes. Nelson then paced his way along the deck, which shone bright as the freshly cleaned wood reflected the falling sunset. The French prisoners cursed and swore as Collingwood put them to work. When there was nothing left to be done he had them swab the deck for good measure.

As the sun started to descend over the horizon Nelson figured that they had suffered enough and he ordered to have them shackled and locked away in the storage hold. He also did not want the French on the deck during the night, for even in shackles they were, as Collingwood would say; 'Slimy bastards.'

Nelson turned to James, who was best known for his skill and accuracy with a musket. 'See the prisoners to shackles and lock them up in the storage hold. Make sure that they are guarded, you can take shifts with Anderson if you like.'

James listened and watched with big blue eyes before responding. 'Yes sir.'

He moved over towards the prisoners then set about putting them all in chains.

James lifted the cuffs to one of the prisoner's waiting hands and then, like a cobra the man attacked. Before anyone could see it coming the prisoner swung his fist and it clashed into James' jaw. He then placed a hand on James' shoulder and threw him onto his back before wailing on him with clenched fists. Nelson and Elizabeta drew their pistols on the other prisoners to ensure that they did not follow their friends example and Collingwood rushed in with a wooded club and bashed the ravaging French prisoner in the small of his back. The man yelped and arched his back as the pain of the blow shot up his spine. Now James, bloodied and bruised, took the opportunity to kick the man off of his body and onto the cold wooden deck. He stood up and, using his sleeve, he wiped the blood from his busted lip.

James was a strong man, and he instantly recovered and helped Collingwood drag the prisoners into their cell.

Night had fallen however Nelson had decided to remain where he was up on the quarterdeck. The stars were bright and the soothing night-time breeze whispered softly over the ocean. Most of the rest of the crew stayed up with him, it seemed that no one could sleep that night. Nelson glanced over at Elizabeta, who sat on the step and stared up at the half-moon. Its light reflected off her blonde hair so that it glowed in the twilight.

After a while Nelson closed his eyes and in his mind there was the clear image of a river mouth. Upon each side of the river was a beautiful white beach, and beyond it laid the perilous jungle of what he assumed was the new world. On the left side of the river was a colourless boulder. It stood three meters high and was as white as the moon.

It was visions like this that kept Nelson from sleeping. He knew that they meant something but he could not figure out what it was. Fortunately after a while the power of the cool sea air and the gentle swaying of the ship was enough to put Nelson into a very deep slumber.


	14. Chapter 14 - I Keep My Word

**Chapter 14 – I keep My Word**

_"You can never bee too careful when ones life is at risk."_

_'6__th__ December 1778,_

_After spending some time speaking with the Templar captain I came to realise that both the Assassins and the Templars are after the same goal, however their means of achieving this goal are quite different. In the end both sides fight for peace, even though the action of fighting defeats the purpose of their goal. So long as blood is spilt there will never be peace. I wonder if this ancient conflict between the Assassins and the Templars will ever end. Will the Assassins find their peace in the freedom of humanity or will the Templars force it upon us in their efforts to gain control…'_

Horatio Nelson awoke to the ringing of morning bells that were struck by the sentry he had placed in the crows-nest. The sun had not yet risen over the horizon and Nelson relied lanterns lit across the deck for visibility. He had remained upon the quarterdeck for the entire night and now that he was rested it was time for the day to begin. Nelson walked slowly across the deck, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the candlelight.

Elizabeta stood over the cargo hold and was practising her swordplay. She had dressed herself once again in her white assassin outfit and as she moved and stepped her platted blonde hair bounced around her shoulders like an angry snake. Sitting on the steps beside the quarterdeck was Dannie. He held a shining silver dagger between his fingers and he examined it extensively, twirling the blade around in his hands. He then took out a cloth and poured some oil into it, which he rubbed onto the metal of the blade, polishing it with great delicacy.

Nelson made his way over to Collingwood, who was still slumbering on the other side of the ship. Collingwood sat in a small wooded chair, his head was back and he had a little straw hat resting over his face. Nelson nudged the sleeping man with his boot. Collingwood's leg rocked and he started to groan. Nelson tried again, but kicked him harder this time. Suddenly Collingwood rolled over and fell hard onto the deck. As he regained his feet he babbled out random words, 'Yes captain. Right away sir!'

Nelson placed a hand on Collingwood's shoulder to steady him, and then he spoke. 'Awaken yourself, and then meet me in the hold to escort the prisoners onto the deck. There are still some things I need to discuss with their captain.'

Collingwood blinked heavily a few times and then responded. 'Yes sir.'

Nelson gathered Elizabeta and together they headed down into the depths of the _Brise_. They found James asleep in a hammock, swaying back and forth in the muggy compartment of the sleeping quarters. He awoke rather quickly and he followed Nelson out of the room, down a hallway and into the storage hold. The hold was a large area, containing a light load of various spices and planks of wood as well as kegs filled with gunpowder.

Near the entrance of the hold was a single cell, big enough to contain about ten men, maybe more if it was necessary. Next to the cell sat Anderson, half asleep and bored out of his mind. Above them a single lantern offered enough light to see the cell, as well as the exit and some of the cargo that was neatly stacked on the shelves around them.

Anderson stood up upon seeing Nelson and he waited patiently for his commands. Nelson spoke to the entire group. 'Take the prisoners to the deck.' He ordered. 'Have them fed and then get them working. I want the captain brought to my cabin after his meal.'

James opened to gate to the cell and urged to prisoners to move in a steady line up to the deck. Nelson went ahead and watched the prisoners as they stepped onto the deck. The sun was now rising and its glow consumed the ocean and the sky. Nelson had Collingwood un-cuff the mumbling captives. To his right Anderson had set out some charts on a wooden and was now reviewing their coordinates. James stood and watched the prisoners from a distance, careful if they were to try anything sneaky again. Nelson saw a look in the captain's eyes that wasn't there before. It was a stare that made him feel very uneasy. Each of the prisoners was given a food ration of leftover biscuits and dried meat. The captain was the last to receive his food, and even as he ate he continued with his stare.

Nelson couldn't handle it anymore. He pointed to the captain, 'You, come here now.' He ordered.

The captain took a step forward and then scowled at Nelson. 'You Fool.' He uttered. With practised speed the captain reached into his breaches with his right hand and drew out a dagger. It was a strong fine blade. In the same movement he flicked his arm and the dagger was propelled through the air, directly towards Nelson. There was no time to react, but with some stoke of luck the dagger missed his face, brushing past it only a hairs width away.

For a moment Nelson was in the clear. Elizabeta knocked the captain down and held her blade to his throat, and the rest of Nelson's crew had stopped in order to contain the prisoners. Then Nelson turned and saw the tragedy that was behind him. The dagger missed Nelson however the blade had caught Anderson in the neck. Anderson stood for a moment, he placed his hand over the dagger and then he stumbled onto the table beside him. Blood pulsed from the wound and trickled down from his lips so that it dripped and stained his shirt. Suddenly the strength was sapped out of his body and Anderson collapsed onto the table and then again onto the hard wooden deck. There was a loud _thud_ when he fell.

Nelson shouted out and then ran over to him. He rolled Anderson onto his back and stared into his eyes as if it would somehow bring the boy back. Everyone else just stared with wide eyes, utterly helpless. They could all hear Anderson choking and gargling blood as he struggled for breath. Nelson began to weep softly.

Then the French captain started to laugh, it was soft at first and then grew louder in a twisted crescendo. 'Your mission is as futile as your attempts to save this boys life.' The captain taunted.

Nelson felt paralysed. He was completely shattered by Anderson's death, for he was only a boy. A fire began to burn and Nelson's grief was transformed into anger. He rose from Anderson's body. The boy's blood had stained his forearms. Nelson's fury increased as he reached over to his belt and drew out one of his flintlock pistols. Then with increased speed Nelson moved and stood over Anderson's Killer. The captain was still on his knees and the hatred burned in his eyes as he glared up at Nelson.

Nelson loaded the pistol with a little round lead bullet. He cocked back the trigger and placed the nozzle steadily against the captain's forehead. Finally he whispered softly. 'I keep my word.'

The hammer snapped forward and the powder exploded, forcing the little lead ball forward to be driven brutally through the captain's skull. The captain fell to the side as his head exploded and his blood and brains soaked the hard wood deck on which he now lay.


	15. Chapter 15 - Feels Like Home

**Chapter 15 – Feels Like Home**

_"There are some orders that even the most loyal of soldiers cannot accomplish."_

_'8__th__ December 1778,_

_Upon returning to Port Royale I have focused myself on building a crew and preparing to set out for Nicaragua. Those under my command as well as myself have stayed at the inn as we await Sir Parker's return. Soon I will have my own ship, and then all I will need is the firepower to achieve my goal…'_

The image constantly flashed in Nelson's mind, vivid, as if it were real. Among the dense jungle trees was an outpost, towering ten meters high. Then, in a flash the image changed to a series of buildings spaced out in a massive circle. Between them was a dirt path lined with patches of lush green grass. In the centre of the little village was a well, and there was a man wearing Spanish light armour using the pulley to collect a bucket of water.

One of the buildings was a blacksmith and Nelson saw the forge and the racks of swords and spears organised and placed on the porch out the front of the building. Nelson also recognised a barracks, a fletcher and various other military buildings. Opposite to the main gate entrance was a hall with a stage out the front. The hall was the largest building in the village that Nelson now recognised was a fort. He realised that the key he was after must have been kept locked up somewhere in there.

Suddenly there was a cry, and it was loud and hoarse. Then Nelson saw a group of men, prisoners, being led onto the stage on the far side from the hall. The prisoners had been badly beaten and they were covered in dirt and dried blood. Their long tattered hair drooped over their heads and obscured their faces, but Nelson could hear them curse and he instantly knew that they were British. A man followed the prisoners up onto the stage. He was heavily built and his brown eyes gazed coldly as he gave his orders to the Spanish soldiers under his command.

The soldiers responded to his authority with subtle actions. The man wore a steel breastplate and helmet, and his dark beard poked out of the gap between the metal. He shouted to his men as they rounded up the line of prisoners and had them fixed with nooses around their necks. The prisoners cursed and spat on their captors. Then the man in armour stepped over to a wooden lever, his face showed no emotion, and without pause he condemned the prisoners to death. The stage beneath the British men gave way and they fell. Some of the prisoners' necks broke straight away, and the others were forced to hang until the life in them was gone.

Nelson awoke from the dream and sat up hastily in his bed. His breath was heavy and he was starting to sweat. The room that he had stayed in was the best that the sailor's inn could offer. The fine furniture was nicely spaced out and the bed was soft. The early morning sun came in through a single window and spread itself over Nelson's sheets. The warmth was soothing.

There was a gentle knock on the door and Nelson called for whomever it was to enter. The wooden door creaked as it was swung open and in the doorway stood a pretty looking young lady. A soft green dress covered her slim body and her light brown hair only drooped down to her neck. In her hands she held a tray with a small loaf of bread, some sweet cakes, some juice and a note.

The lady smiled at Nelson as she set the tray down on the table by his bed, 'Compliments from Sir Parker.' She said kindly.

Nelson rubbed his eyes for a moment, 'Wait, Sir Parker is here?' He asked.

'Oh, he arrived just this hour. Gave my daddy this note and then asked that you were given a nice breakfast. I'm Astrid, my father owns the inn.'

'Thank you Astrid.' Nelson returned Astrid's smile. He then collected the tray and started to eat his breakfast after Astrid had quietly left the room. Nelson read the note that was placed on the tray with his meal. It was written in Sir Parker's exquisite handwriting and it simply congratulated Nelson on his recent success and asked for them to meet at the town centre. When he was done Nelson pulled on his breaches and slipped a jacket of his shoulders before washing his face in a basin of water and heading down stairs. As he entered the main room he sighted Astrid's father sweeping the floors. Astrid's father was a middle-aged man and his hair and beard was grey with blotches of black remaining.

Nelson walked off the pier onto the path that ran through the town. The morning breeze was heavy with the smell of the ocean and the trees. There were some soldiers running drills not far from the main part of the town, and Nelson could hear their muskets constantly firing. He walked past the bakery and was soon approaching the luscious circular gardens that surrounded the town centre tower. Sir Parker waited patiently on a chair beneath the massive tower that shadowed most of the garden. He was drinking a cup of tea. As he sighted Nelson, Parker stood up and straightened his uniform that was still worn with pride. Parker had not yet washed himself and he had the smell and appearance of a man who had long been at sea.

'Ah, Nelson, you are looking well.' He said in a conversational tone.

'Thank you, sir.' Nelson took notice of Parker's weak tired eyes. 'I wish I could say the same for you, but.'

Sir Parker laughed, 'Yes. I think a few hours of sleep and a bath will do me some good, but there are more important matters to attend to.' Sir Parker's tone changed to show a hint of compunction. 'I heard you lost one of your boys. Anderson. It's too bad, he was a good lad.'

'Nothing can be done for him now.' Nelson said sadly, 'I saw to it personally that his killer received proper punishment.'

Sir Parker then changed the conversation. 'Did you learn anything of importance from the prisoners? Were there any documents aboard the ship?'

'Yes. I had found a map within the captain's files that marks the locations of most of the Spanish and French forts and camps all around the Caribbean.' Nelson saw his chance to go after the key. 'The French captain was among the prisoners. He spoke of a fort with great significance located in Nicaragua.'

Sir Parker was silent for a moment as he paced slowly around the garden. 'I want this map immediately. I think General Dalling will find it most interesting. Now, I believe there is the matter of your promotion.'

Nelson reminded himself that he was a sailor and he stood firm and straight as Parker spoke to him.

'I am appointing you as the official commander of the _HMS Badger_. She is a fine ship so treat her well. You may select a crew of your choice however they must be approved and considered through me. Your orders are to patrol the Central American Coast and intercept as many Spanish and French vessels as you can. You have my permission to leave as soon as you have a crew and are properly rested. That will be all.'

Nelson took in the information he had just received. 'Thank you, sir.' He said respectively. 'My crew and I will be ready to set sail first thing tomorrow morning.'

After Parker dismissed him, Nelson walked back down the dirt path and returned to the sailor's inn on the pier. He selected a table in the corner of the main room and seated himself. Nelson checked his new golden pocket watch, and it was eight o'clock. He needed to find Collingwood and begin selecting his crew. He assumed that Collingwood was still sleeping so he left his table and moved up the stairs to find Collingwood's room. Atop the stairs was a hallway with six doors on both sides and a there was a green mat laid through the middle. Collingwood had room number four. Nelson knocked twice before Collingwood opened the door and stood with his lower body hidden behind it.

'Morning sir.' Collingwood greeted first.

'Collingwood, where are your clothes?' Nelson said brashly. He looked behind Collingwood and saw a woman lying naked on the bed. 'Who's the woman?'

'That's Lila. Or was it Rose? I can't remember. Heck of a girl she is, though. She'd do anything to please a man. You should've seen her.'

'Spare me the details, Collingwood. Just have yourself dressed and meet me downstairs. I spoke to parker.'

'Parker is here in Port Royale?' Collingwood cut in.

'Yes.' Nelson answered. 'I spoke to him this morning. We are to select a crew and then be ready to sail tomorrow morning.'

'Why so soon?' Collingwood asked and then answered himself. 'Wait, it's your secret mission isn't it? From Captain Locker.'

Nelson disliked that Collingwood was not part of his mission. 'I wish I could tell you, but I have my orders.'

'Think nothing of it.' Collingwood said. 'Orders are orders. I'd do the same if I were in your position. I'm just glad to be able to help.'

Nelson walked back down the stairs and he found that sitting at his table was Elizabeta, wearing her white shirt and trousers and drinking a mug of coffee. As Nelson sat down he noticed that the daily commotion of the inn was beginning to fester. People were now coming in and out rapidly.

Elizabeta was straight to business. She placed a clean logbook on the table and opened it up. 'I spoke to my Port Royale contact.' She said quietly so that they would not be over heard. 'Captain Locker sends his regards from Nicaragua. They've been doing some digging for us. There's a Spanish general there by the name of Cortez, Locker says he's the one keeping hold of the key. He even drew a picture of the man.' Elizabeta turned the page and presented a rough sketch of a heavily build man with a thick dark beard.

'I've seen this man before.' Nelson pointed out. 'In my vision, there was a fort and they were lynching British sailors.'

'Do you think Cortex may have caught on to some of Locker's scouts? Locker is good enough to keep away from Cortez for now, but if Cortez knows about us, well we'd best not waste anymore time.'

Nelson agreed, 'Did your contact mention anything of lending us men?' He asked.

'He did. Three men from Boston have been called to meet us when we reach Nicaragua. They are all skilled assassins and are relatively high in the ranks.'

As they discussed this, Collingwood came down and sat quietly with them.

'Good.' Nelson continued. 'However my orders were to only patrol the coast and capture any passing vessels, I am not expected to engage the enemy on land. Besides, I have seen the fort and even with a full crew we will not be able to take it alone.'

Collingwood cut in, 'Maybe General Dalling would be able to help. If you were to convince him that Nicaragua needed to be taken I'm sure he would supply the necessary firepower needed for such a cause. Although, he is a busy man and I'm not so sure that he would listen so eagerly to someone of your rank, especially when making a request such as this.'

'This morning I gave Sir Parker the map with the enemy locations on it. He said that he would give the map to the general immediately. Here's what we'll do. I want you to enlist the names of our new crew, and make sure that James, Dannie and Frank are on board. Take the rest from the barracks if you have to but make sure we have a full ship by sundown. I am going to go see if I can talk to General Dalling.'

Nelson left the inn and was once again heading for the town centre. He checked his pocket watch again and it was almost noon. A dark skinned man, a gardener tending to the hedges, greeted Nelson as he entered the main building. The hall was very open. There was a long table in the centre that ran half the length of the room and there were doors on both sides that lead to smaller rooms. Upon entering the hall Nelson was stopped by a man in the British uniform. 'State your business.' He demanded.

'My name is Captain Nelson, and I have very important information for General Dalling.'

The guard moved aside. 'Very well, he is in the war room at the end of the hall.'

Nelson continued forward, pacing hastily until he reached the war room. General Dalling was leaning over a table and staring at a world map. All across his map were little figures. There were ships, soldiers and buildings. The little soldiers in blue represented British men, just as the blue ships and buildings represented British vessels and forts. The figures in red must have represented the Spanish and French. General Dalling appeared to be a strong man. His face was cleanly shaven and he wore his uniform with a disturbing amount of superiority, there was not a fabric out of place.

Nelson stood in the doorway and awaited permission to enter. One of the men next to Dalling waved Nelson in. 'What is it?' He asked.

General Dalling had not yet taken notice of Nelson's appearance, and then he raised his head and glared at Nelson with pale blue eyes. Nelson took notice of General Dalling dark hair, which was combed over to the side of his head, with a single strand hanging just above his eyes. Dalling spoke, 'I know you. You're Parker's boy.'

'Correct, sir. I have information concerning some of our men in Nicaragua.' Nelson stated.

'Nicaragua? We have no men stationed there. It is heavily controlled by the Spanish.'

'I believe it may have been a covert operation. I only received word from Captain Locker this morning.'

The General turned to his lieutenant. 'Bretton, what did you know of this?'

'It was under my orders.' The man explained. 'It was some time ago that I had a hunch as to where the Spanish' main force in Nicaragua was located. I dispatched Locker and a scouting crew to see what they could find. Looking at the map that we received from Parker, it seems that I was right.'

Dalling turned once again to Nelson. 'So what do you have to say about this?'

Nelson realised that he had no way to prove what he was about to say. 'Locker and his men have been captured. I think the Spanish know that we're onto them.'

'And how exactly do you know all of this?' General Dalling questioned.

By now Nelson assumed that the lieutenant was Elizabeta's assassin contact.

'I… I just know. General Cortez, the leader of the Spanish forces in Central America, well, he's a careful man. He also seems to be quite cunning.'

The lieutenant continued for him. 'The lad's right, sir. In Locker's message, he mentioned that some of his men had long been missing, but nothing was confirmed.'

General Dalling looked annoyed and he continued to speak. 'Look, I don't know what you're getting at but you seem to know what you're doing. Now pay attention.' Dalling indicated for all the men to gather around his map. 'I understand that Nicaragua is of great importance, however we are still dealing with the whole of Central America here. According to Sir Parker's map, Locker and his men are here, at the fortress of San Juan. Before we can take this we would have to clear all of the smaller outposts in the area. Then we would be able to send a fleet directly from Port Royale to Nicaragua while at the same time having infantry troops ready to infiltrate the fort after the first strike from our big guns on the coast.'

'Attack them from both sides.' The lieutenant agreed.

'But what about Captain Locker.' Nelson argued. 'He'll be dead by the time we are ready.'

'We do not even know that he is in trouble. A mission such as this requires precision, and a rescue would be too much of a risk on account of your instincts. What were Sir Parker's initial orders for you?'

'I was to patrol the Central American coast and intercept any enemy vessels that come or go.' Nelson explained.

'Good, I want you to do that. If we were to cut off their supplies then our mission would become much easier. You are dismissed. Return here in three months time for more orders. We will organize the official plan then.'

Nelson tried to hold back his anger about Locker as he paced out of the room. When he exited the main hall he checked his pocket watch. It was now two o'clock. Outside the hall, Elizabeta waited for Nelson by the garden. 'What news?' She asked.

Nelson continued to walk back to the inn and Elizabeta followed him as he spoke. 'General Dalling is going to attack the fortress of San Juan in Nicaragua, however it will be too late for Locker.'

'What are we going to do?' Elizabeta asked.

'We are going to go in ourselves and save Captain Locker. Get Collingwood and have the crew ready. We are leaving tonight.'


	16. Chapter 16 - One Heck Of A Rescue, Sir

**Chapter 16 – That Was One Heck Of A Rescue, Sir**

_"Never leave a man behind."_

_'11__th__ January 1779,_

_It appears to me that everyone wants something from Nicaragua. General Dalling wants San Juan, the Assassin's want their key and despite my orders I want to rescue Captain Locker and his men. I know that he is there. I see his face behind iron bars as I try to sleep. Elizabeta says that this is not what Locker would want me to do, quite frankly I don't care what he wants, I will not let my fellow sailors perish under the hands of the Spanish. Captain Locker is a priority, however I believe that if all goes well I might even have a chance at taking the key. I know the risk and yet I am willing to raise the stakes, I hope Dalling never hears of this…'_

Sir Parker was right, Nelson thought, the Badger was a mighty fine ship. She was the fastest and smoothest sailing ship that Nelson had ever been upon, and she still maintained a high level of firepower. Nelson stood against the rail on the bow as he glanced through his telescope. Through it he observed a small Spanish vessel. It was only a trader returning to deliver its cargo and sail off again to some other Spanish or French outpost. To his left the sun was beginning to touch the ocean horizon and gracefully slip into darkness.

To his right was the coastline of Nicaragua, however it was only a feint line of trees in the distance. Nelson had selected a small portion of his crew to partake in the mission that he had planned with Collingwood and Elizabeta the night before. Now the selected men stood in a line across the deck and Nelson went to each one and had them repeat to him their instructions. There was no room for error on this mission, and Nelson needed to know that his men knew exactly what they were doing.

Nelson glanced again through his telescope at the enemy trader as it sailed with ease towards San Juan. 'Andrew, bring us up behind that trader.' He called to his new coxswain.

Andrew gripped the large wheel and turned it until the _Badger_ sailed directly towards her pray.

Nelson stood on the quarterdeck so that he was visible to his entire crew. 'Listen up! No cannons are to be fired when we take the ship. We can't afford to damage that vessel.'

The crew responded with an enthusiastic cry. 'Aye sir!'

The _Badger _gained on the enemy ship very quickly and Nelson was close enough to see the gold lettering written across the side, _El Comerciante De Miel_. From his lessons, Nelson believed that the name was Spanish for 'The Honey Trader.' The _Badger_ glided over the ocean with haste until she was able to edge herself alongside the trader. On the deck of the _Commerciante_ hysteria arose as the merchants panicked and ran to their cabins and the guards tried to find a way to defend themselves. Nelson immediately noticed the Spanish guards rushing for the swivel cannons.

He called to James, 'I need you and your men to take out those gunners. Then proceed to pick off the rest of the guards if you can but cease fire when our men board the ship.'

James nodded once, 'Aye sir.' He then took up his musket, gathered the other marksmen and moved into position.

The _Badger _was almost directly alongside the _Commerciante _and Nelson waited with Dannie as they readied the boarding planks. The rest of Nelson's selected team gathered behind him and they took up their weapons. Some men wielded sabres, others preferred to use a cutlass, and some of the men even carried wooden clubs.

The first crack of gunpowder came from one of the swivel cannons. The shooter was immediately clouded in a white puff of gun smoke and the sound silenced everyone on both ships. The little cannon ball crashed into the inner deck of the _Badger,_ leaving only a little splintering hole. As soon as the gunner's smoke screen cleared James was able to return fire. He raised his musket and fired, the muzzle of his weapon exploded and the little lead ball was launched from the gun. A split second later the swivel gunner's head exploded as the bullet struck him right between the eyes.

After a brief moment of silence the guards on the swivels erupted in a rally of war cries. They fired their guns and tried desperately to escape the clutches of the _Badger. _James and his marksmen were able to take down several more of the swivel gunners and the cover fire allowed Nelson the opportunity to secure the planks and board the enemy ship. Nelson led the charge and his men followed close behind before spreading out and surrounding the rest of the guards.

Nelson embraced an oncoming attacker. At first he was too close to swing his sword so he used the hilt and hit the man in the jaw. Nelson's attacker staggered, and then slashed his cutlass angrily but with precise and practised hands. Nelson parried the blow and cut down his opponent with two single strokes.

As Nelson's crew over powered the other, he glanced around the deck to make sure that none of the guards survived. So far all was going to plan.

Nelson ran up to the quarterdeck steps and then spoke to his men, 'Gather their uniforms and then toss the bodies to sea. Get rid of all traces of blood from the deck and make sure there is none on your uniforms.' Nelson scanned the crowd before him. 'Where are the merchants?' He demanded.

Andrew replied by leading three men at knifepoint to the centre of the deck. The merchants were all wealthy men. They wore gold chains and necklaces and were covered in all other sorts of jewellery. Beneath their thick purple cloaks they wore fine cotton and silk shirts.

Andrew pulled the hood from the head of one of the merchants. His dark hair was matted and tied back out of his face and he stared at Nelson with scared brown eyes. 'Take the cargo.' He begged, 'Take what ever you want. Just let me live!'

Nelson waited it out as the poor man begged and cried. After he had heard the merchant's terms he spoke.

'Very well.' He started. 'Take their clothes and then lock them up on the _Badger_. We can deal with them after we have Locker.'

Still holding the terrified merchants at knifepoint, Andrew escorted the merchants back to the _Badger_. He then forced them to remove their clothes down to their underwear. The merchants, mostly naked and completely shamed, were finally locked away in one of the cabins below the deck. As this happened, the rest of Nelson's selected team set about to removing the uniforms of the dead guards and fitting it onto themselves. It was a gruesome task, one that Nelson would not have asked if it was not entirely important. Andrew gathered the three sets of clothes from the merchants and gave one set each to Nelson, Collingwood and Elizabeta. The long robes and silk shirts fitted Collingwood and Nelson well and close.

The merchant's clothes were extremely comfortable although Nelson could already sense the difficulty in executing swordplay with such a heavy cloak burdening his shoulders. For Elizabeta the clothes were too large and they clutched loosely to her slim body. Nelson thought that she looked rather silly, however the fact that she was a woman was now hidden to any prying eyes as the cloak now covered her usual curves and her long hair was tucked into her hood.

What remained of the daylight was now only a feint orange glow on the horizon. The disguise was believable, the deck had been cleaned of bodies and blood and it was time for the _Commerciante _to part from the _Badger_. The only visibility that the _Badger_ could rely on was the light that shined from the stars and the moon and reflected off the ocean. Nelson couldn't risk them being spotted from the shore, otherwise the actual mission would be over before it even began.

In the distance the land glowed with window lanterns and campfires that were scattered around San Juan. The _Badger_ was now hidden from sight and it waited patiently in the darkness for Nelson's return. There was a silence aboard the ship and the tension grew as Nelson drew nearer to the fort. He had full confidence that his plan would work, however it would only take one mistake and everything would fall apart.

The _Commerciante _drifted slowly into port and below them a man on the dock hailed Andrew, who posed as the ships captain. Andrew gave his orders to the fake guards and had them secure the ship against the dock. The men below then took a long wooden ramp and set it in place so that people would be able to come and go from the ship.

A large man approached Nelson, he was one of the superiors and his icy gaze scanned Nelson's ship suspiciously. He propped a pipe in his mouth and held a flame to the end until the tobacco began to burn. Then he spoke to Andrew through his teeth and without removing the pipe. 'You're late.' He said sternly in Spanish.

Anderson responded to the accusation in fluent Spanish however he spoke too quickly and Nelson feared that he was acting too suspicious.

'We were set off course when a small band of pirates attacked us. Though, it was nothing my men couldn't handle.'

The superior nodded once. 'They are a nuisance. Are they not?' The superior turned to Nelson. 'You. Merchant. Remember not to play games with me or else you'll end up like your friends from last time. All of the supplies better be accounted for.'

'As long as we remain to the agreed price.' Nelson said, as calmly as he could.

The man shot Nelson a look, as if he knew something but wasn't going to say it. Nelson forced himself to remain calm and assumed that he was just being paranoid.

'You can collect your money from General Cortez.' The man stepped aside and allowed Nelson to move into the fort. Nelson looked at Collingwood and signalled for him to accompany. As Collingwood stepped onto the dock Andrew continued to speak. 'Excellent, I will have my men unload the cargo.'

The superior cut him off. 'My men will come on board and collect the supplies. No one else is to set foot in the fort.'

Nelson could hear no more as he moved hurriedly through the maze of military buildings and towards the centre of the fort. Soon he was able to recognise the layout of the fort from his dream. Once he reached the centre well he glanced up at the main hall and the stage that was beside it. There were guards patrolling everywhere, and they slowly paced back and forth along the main wall like clockwork. There was other off duty soldiers that sat in circles and shared drinks around campfires. The soldiers talked and laughed and sang, and Nelson decided that they were too drunk to cause any problems for him later.

Nelson sighted the prison block and then spoke quietly to Collingwood. 'Go collect the money from General Cortez. He's probably expecting you but try and take your time. I'll go and get Locker. Meet me outside the prison block when you can and make sure you leave the coin by the well. Remember, I'll need it for cover on the way out.'

Collingwood nodded once and then walked off towards the main hall. Nelson crouched low and stealthily creped his way towards the prison block, always sticking to the shadows. He stopped when he saw one of the soldiers move from one building to another. Somehow above the sounds of the drunken soldiers he could hear his own breath, he realized that it was heavy and that he was scared. The moving soldier passed and Nelson continued until he finally reached the front door of the prison block. The door was poorly secured and slightly rusted.

Nelson thought that he would be able to break the lock with something however he passed the idea because any use of force would be too loud. He then resulted to plan B and pulled a lock pick from his back pocket. Lock picking was one of the tricks that he learned from Frankie all those years ago on the _Raisonable_. After fiddling around for a few seconds Nelson was able to undo the lock and enter the room within. The prison block was a low building that extended twenty metres with iron barred prison cells on both sides. Upon entering the building, Nelson spotted a round table with a book and a key on it. He assumed that the key opened the cells. A single lantern gave visibility as Nelson moved along and checked each cell for Locker and his men. He called out in a hush tone, 'Locker?'

Suddenly an arm extended out through the bars of the cell at the end of the building. A voice called out. 'Who's there? Who are you?'

As Nelson continued forward he saw Lockers head leaning against the iron bars. Five more of his men were cramped into the single cell. 'Nelson, is that you?' Locker asked.

Nelson moved forward and faced Locker. 'I'm here to get you out.' He said softly as he used the key to unlock the cell. The metal hinges creaked, and the cage was swung open.

Locker was the first to step out of the cell. 'Who are you with?' He asked.

'It's just me and a few others.' Nelson explained. 'There really isn't much time. We have to get out of here before the guards find us.'

'Nelson, they have one of the keys. I was caught trying to get it.'

Nelson quietly opened the prison block door and peeked outside to make sure there was no one in the way. 'I'm afraid there won't be enough time for that, sir.' When he spotted Collingwood in his cloak waiting outside Nelson opened the door and led Locker and his men out. In a hurried voice, Nelson gave his next instructions to Collingwood. 'Take them and move behind the buildings until you make it around to the dock, wait there for my signal, and then make a run for the _Commerciante.'_

Without wasting any time Nelson was off again into the shadows. He used the plants as cover as he moved towards his target, the gunpowder storage. When the small the storage building was in sight, Nelson spotted only a single man stationed against a lantern pole to guard it. When the coast was clear of patrolling soldiers, Nelson moved out of the cover of the bushes and circled around so that he approached the powder storage from behind. He drew a knife from beneath his cloak and then, like a tiger stalking its prey, he moved in behind the single guard. Then, with smooth hands, Nelson cupped his left hand over the solders mouth and slit the man's throat with his right.

At first the man tried to fight, and then he choked and fell to the ground as the blood gushed from the wound. Nelson found the key to the powder storage tied to a piece of string around the dead man's neck. He snapped it off and quickly unlocked the door and dragged the dead guard inside. The patrols would be passing by any second now. The ground had been dug out to form a relatively large bunker and piles of gunpowder were stored in barrels inside the small building. Nelson cracked one of the barrels open and poured half its contents onto the floor to act as a fuse. He then set the half empty barrel back in it's place, took the lantern from its stand, tossed it down on the fuse so that it burst into a small fireball and then shut the door.

Just as the next patrol came by Nelson had slipped back into the shadows. Although he was not successful yet, Nelson was moving as quickly and as quietly as he possibly could to reach the dock. He returned to where Collingwood had left the chest full of money and acted as if nothing had happened. As he paced back to the dock with the coin chest in his hands and the _Commerciante_ came in sight, Nelson feared that the flame had not caught to the gunpowder. The thought slipped from his mind as the powder storage exploded in a fierce ball of flames and a sound like thunder erupted behind him. As he had hoped, the superior and most of his men ignored the simple merchants and rushed over to see what had happened.

The rest of the men set about trying to put out the fiery blaze. As soon as this happened, Nelson dropped his chest full of coins and ran as fast as he could to the _Commerciante_. At the same time Collingwood, Locker and the others dashed out from behind the dock and made their way up the ramp. Elizabeta had dealt with any of the guards that remained on the ship and Nelson watched with amazement as she drove her hidden blades through the skulls of two unsuspecting soldiers. She then pushed both of the bodies over the rail and they splashed into the water below.

The false guards under Nelson's command had already untied the ropes to the dock and had set the ship to half sail. Nelson dashed up and took the wheel, steering the ship with great care towards the open ocean. Fortunately for them the wind was on their side and they moved with great speed once the full sails were released. As they looked back on San Juan, the fire and the smoke lifted high into the night sky. There was little chance that they would be pursued when there was a fire threatening the fort.

The signal light from the _HMS Badger _flashed and grew brighter as they drew nearer, and soon Nelson was once again aboard his own ship. He removed his cloak and was greeted by his crew with congratulations and cheers on a successful mission. Then Locker approached Nelson and they began to talk. 'I'd like to thank you for what you did just then.' Locker said.

'Never leave a man behind.' Nelson replied. 'And we don't need to worry about the key for now. General Dalling is organising a force as we speak. Soon we will have the key and all of San Juan with it. This is, if Cortez doesn't try to move it.'

'General Cortez knows that the key is far too vulnerable on the road. He may have even suspected that tonight was an attempt to drive him away from the safety of his fort. No, he won't be going anywhere. He's safe behind his walls for now.'

Nelson considered this. 'Good, then he'll still be waiting for us when we take San Juan later on.'

Captain Locker looked over to the _Commerciante_. 'I think it is time for me to report back to Port Royale. My men and I will take the trader and go at once.'

Nelson assisted in checking that the _Commerciante_ was properly stocked and then said his goodbye before Locker set off. 'I'll see you again soon.' He added before they sailed away.

As their ships drifted apart and Nelson watched the little trader go until the night had consumed it, Collingwood came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. 'That was one heck of a rescue, sir.' Then they started to laugh.


	17. Chapter 17 - Another Briefing

**Chapter 17 – Another Briefing**

_"Appreciate the gifts that you are given."_

_'1__st__ September 1779,_

_For the past year I had dwindled around the Caribbean on the HMS Badger, attempting to intercept enemy ships but with very little success. When I returned to Port Royale in June and handed the Badger over to Collingwood, the anticipation of the upcoming battle just about killed me. I await the arrival of the HMS Hinchinbrook, a generous gift from Sir Parker to suit my new promotion…'_

Horatio Nelson waited alone on the Port Royale pier and watched as the _Badger_ approached, gliding across the calm water with ease as she always had. When the ship came to a slow halt he glanced over the _Badger's _side rails, expecting to see Collingwood in his big blue captains jacket and his black-feathered hat. Collingwood's appearance was almost exactly as Nelson had predicted, although his left hand was wrapped tight in a white-cotton bandage. The boarding ramp was propped up and Collingwood stepped off the ship

Before Nelson could ask, Collingwood began to explain. 'We ran into trouble when we were scouting along the rivers that led into Costa Rica.' He said. 'It was a French slaver, of all things. A big long vessel carrying cages full of natives up the coast. Can you believe it?' The question was rhetorical. 'Anyway, I think we were a little too curious for our own good because as soon as the French saw us, they attacked. And this was no small force. There were dozens of men, heavily armed men. But, we managed to bust open the cages and punch a good sized hole in their boat.' Collingwood stopped to think for a moment. 'That battle came out of nowhere.'

Nelson laughed, 'You still haven't told me what happened to your hand.'

Collingwood looked back at him. 'Oh, when the fighting got close it took a full on blow with a war club. I can't move my little finger, but Doctor Edward says it'll be fine.'

Together Collingwood walked with Nelson and left his crew to tend to the ship. They followed the dirt path to the town centre gardens. Tiny flowers had sprouted from the hedges and insects buzzed around them in little clouds.

Nelson informed Collingwood on what had been happening and on what was soon to some. 'General Dalling is in the main room. So far he has gathered all of the captains and people of interest who are involved in the San Juan assault. He'll be expecting your report immediately.' Nelson opened the great doors of the main hall and let himself in. The guards saluted both of them as they entered the building by tipping their hats. 'Captain Nelson. Captain Collingwood.' They spoke rather quickly. 'General Dalling and the others are awaiting you inside.'

Nelson didn't want to keep Dalling waiting any more than he had to, and so he increased his pace as he walked across the main hall.

Inside the conference room was a long table with people sitting all around it. On the stone floor was a rug that ran under the table. At the end of the long table sat General Dalling, behind him there was a stone fireplace where a pile of logs burned and crackled. Above the fireplace hung a map of the Caribbean. Nelson recognised many other faces around the table, including Captain Locker who sat directly to General Dalling's left, Elizabeta was seated next to Locker, Lieutenant Bretton was on Dalling's right and Sir Parker was seated next to Bretton. There were two seats remaining for Nelson and Collingwood.

As they sat down, General Dalling began to speak. 'Nelson, you're late.'

Nelson noticed that the statement was pointed directly at Nelson with no blame towards Collingwood.

The General continued, 'So far we have only discussed who is going to go where. Lieutenant Bretton and I have decided to oversee the main fleet when we begin the attack from the sea.' Dalling now spoke to the entire table. 'Captain Nelson and Captain Collingwood will be part of the infantry, as well as Markus, John…' General Dalling pointed out several other names and the scribe beside him jotted them down. He then listed down who would be part of the main fleet under General Dalling's command, Locker and his newly appointed crew was part of this list.

General Dalling went on, standing up and pointing at the map above the fireplace as he spoke. 'Once our fleet is gathered we will sail directly from Port Royale to San Juan. We will have scouting vessels ahead of us at all times, to make sure that the Spanish don't get wind of our assault.' General Dalling then pointed to a spot on the map just outside of Nicaragua and read out the coordinates. 'Here is where our infantry will break off from the fleet and head south into Costa Rica. Using the mapping generously provided by Captain Collingwood you should be able to traverse through the rivers and then move through the jungle until you reach San Juan's main gate. In the meantime our fleet will be blockading the enemy from the coast. When you arrive at San Juan, you are to set off the signal firework and wait for us to bombard the fort. Then you are to blow down the front gate while the enemy is distracted and meet them in combat, we will do the same.'

Nelson thought that the plan was good enough as it was, however the conference spent more than the next two hours going over every single detail. When at last there was nothing left to change or add to the scheme, General Dalling declared it fool proof and dismissed the conference.

The sun had not quite yet set as Nelson and Collingwood returned to the Sailors inn. They decided to share a few drinks with some of the crew before the day was done. Nelson proceeded to talk about his new ship, 'The _Hinchinbrook_ finally arrived today after all my waiting.' He said joyously before gulping down some more ale. 'I've been stuck here helping Dalling prepare for San Juan. It's nice to know that we will soon be finished with that God awful place.'

Collingwood raised his glass slightly, 'Aye, here's to burning that place to the ground.'

The others around them raised their glasses as well and they cheered and laughed. Nelson began to feel wheezy and he started to cough. When he was able to stop, one of the crew placed a hand on his shoulder. 'Are you alright, sir?' He asked.

'I'm fine, it must be the drink.' Nelson explained.

Then Collingwood butted in. 'Nonsense, you've been too long away from home. It'll make you sick if you let it.'

Nelson regained himself and then offered a smile. 'Now that's nonsense.' He said loudly. 'The sea is my home. Right boys?'

The men around him raised their glasses and continued to cheer. Then one of the younger lads started singing the opening verse to Spanish Ladies. The sailor's voice was smooth and sweet but full of valour. Soon the rest of them were obliged to join in and sing and rant in an unordered choir. Nelson found it ironic that they would sing of such a topic when they faced an enemy such as, it was as if they were openly insulting General Cortez.

Nelson laughed along with the others and then set down his half full drink and quietly made his way up stairs. He strolled down the hallway with the grin stuck on his face as he opened the door. Inside his room there was a dim light and he found a woman sitting on his bed. She wore a black nightgown that was the same colour as her long hair. A lantern gave light to her face and her large eyes were a beautiful chocolate brown. Nelson noticed the sweet caramel tone of her skin.

Nelson entered the room then removed his jacket and placed it on the dresser beside the door. 'Hello there.' He said simply.

The girl placed her small hands on her thighs. 'I'm Liana, I thought you could use some company tonight.' She smiled at him with lust in her eyes.

Nelson stared at her, she was stunningly beautiful, and he knew that he couldn't resist. 'Well you certainly thought right.' He laughed. Nelson sat himself down beside Liana on the bed and stared at her beautiful face in the lantern light. He knew that he didn't need to talk to or charm these types of girls. He placed his right hand on her check and then leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips, and she kissed him back. Her lips were warm and sweet, and Nelson treated them as if they were a pleasure that he would never again receive. With Liana he made the most of what may have been his last ever night at Port Royale.


	18. Chapter 18 - Costa Rica

**Chapter 18 – Costa Rica**

_"The jungle does not know mercy."_

_'2__nd__ March 1780,_

_General Dalling has spent the last few months finalising his plan, gathering supplies and arming his men. It was two weeks ago when I broke away from the main fleet, and now I follow Collingwood and the old Badger as he leads us into Costa Rica. This will all be over soon…'_

Nelson could feel it, the power of the other key, it felt as close to him as the one that he had secured to a silver necklace around his neck. Nelson was inside the great hall of San Juan. He stared up at the high wooden ceiling. When he looked down he saw animal rugs laying flat on the floor and tables spread out across the great room. In the centre of the hall was a large square fire pit that was fenced off with sturdy iron bars to keep the wood from tumbling out. The fire crackled and the smoke sailed up until it exited the hall through a chimney in the roof.

On the tables around the hall sat small banquets of food, free for the higher soldiers to devour. There was a full roasted pig sitting at the main table. It was seasoned with spices and salads, and there were also fruits, fish, meats, bread and sweet cakes for after. It appeared that General Cortez had prepared a feast for himself. Cortez sat at the head of the main table. He was formally dressed in a white shirt and breeches and he wore a red military jacket over the top. His long hair and beard were still loose and scruffy.

During the meal, Cortez stood up with a tankard of wine in his left hand and he spoke to all of his men, who listened with great deference. 'The time has at last come for us to crush the British. In a few days we will send our fleets to Port Royale. We will ravage them and be one step closer to obtaining the great artefact that will grant us all,' He paused to add effect. 'Everlasting power!'

With an uprising of cheerful war cries Cortez thrust his cup high into the air and some of the wine spilt out as he did. Nelson began to see that Cortez considered himself as much more than a general. No normal military officer would throw such a banquet. Deep within Cortez's eyes was the look of a conqueror, a king even. He did not wish to imagine what chaos a man like Cortez would cause if he had gotten his hands on the apple.

When the celebration died down, Cortez returned to his room in the hall with his little wooden box by his side. The room was surprisingly well furnished, with a desk to one side, a dresser on the wall, a double sized bed and a heavy wooden chest beside it. The chest had been bolted to the wooden floorboards. Cortez reached into his shirt and fished out a key from the silver chain around his neck. He fit the key into the lock and turned it, there was a quiet snapping sound and the chest was opened. Within, the chest was rich with gold coins of all kinds. There was also a large expense of jewellery and a collection of documents bound by string.

With the touch of a lover, Cortex gently opened the smaller wooden box and from it, he removed the key. As the little round object came into view it began to pulse with glowing green patterns, and Nelson felt the impulse to reach out and take it, if only he could. Cortez carefully placed the key inside the larger chest and then sealed it away, as if it would be forever parted from him. When he was done he raised his large body up and placed the chest key back around his neck. At last Nelson knew where to find it.

'Sir,' There was a strong voice probing at the back of his mind. It came again, but louder. 'Sir, Collingwood sends word from _The Badger_.'

Reality hit him like a shot of strong whiskey and Nelson found himself once again navigating _The HMS Hitchinbrook_ through the wide Colorado River. The sounds of the insects and the songs of the wild birds carried through the early morning haze. Nelson looked around his environment, on both sides of the river was an impenetrable jungle wall, beneath the haze the brown river water ran with a strong current, and in front of them, past Collingwood and the Badger, the river ran on and on until it joined up with the San Juan River.

Nelson turned his attention towards Collingwood's message. 'What is it boy.' He demanded.

The messenger cleared his throat before speaking. 'Collingwood says that we will soon be in Nicaragua and that the crossing into the San Juan River is coming up now.'

Nelson handed the wheel over to his coxswain. 'Good, tell him that we will be ready to beach when he demands it.'

The messenger nodded and then returned to his longboat. For the remainder of their voyage through the Colorado River, Nelson set about to preparing his men for the long jungle march into Jan Juan. He had all of his men gather their weapons, swords, pistols, muskets, clubs, and then there were the two selected people to carry the powder explosives that would take down the main gate. He then assigned people to carry water and food for the men. According to Collingwood it was just over a days march from the San Juan River to the fort.

This however was without rest and was with a smaller force. Together _The Badger _and _The Hinchinbrook _carried one hundred and forty fighting men, which was a relatively hard force to move though jungles such as those of Costa Rica. As Nelson managed his ship he pondered over his most recent vision. It seemed that General Cortez was more resourceful than anyone had expected, if he was already prepared to launch such an attack on Port Royale.

'What if he learns of the infantry force?' Nelson wondered. If so then he would be walking directly into a trap, so he could only assume the worst. However, they had come too far to turn back now. Nelson decided that he would decide what to later when he re-joined with Collingwood.

After about half a day of smooth sailing Collingwood finally raised the blue flag from the quarterdeck and it flapped gracefully in the gentle breeze. This was the signal that they had reached their destination. Nelson assisted Elizabeta in lowering one of the rowboats and then they climbed into it along with a dozen other soldiers. With four men pushing the oars, they drifted over the strong river current until the bottom of their boat touched the northern bank of the river. They were now very close to Fort San Juan.

Nelson leaped from the boat into the knee-deep water and waded onto dry land, leading the first group and waiting by the tree line of the jungle as the other boats from both ships landed. The rowboats had to take another trip to collect the other half of the garrison. The beach was only two metres wide, and the colour of the sand was grey from pebbles and degraded rocks. It spread all the way along the tree line down the river. Nelson met Collingwood a few metres up the grey beach. He had to push through sections of jungle trees that had strayed from the wall.

Meanwhile, Collingwood waited while ordered his men around the beach. Collingwood's brown hair was loose down to his shoulders. He wore only a brown long sleeved shirt and black breeches to protect him from the jungle. The front of the shirt exposed part of Collingwood's chest. Nelson had also noticed that Collingwood's beard had flourished since they had left Port Royale. It was still short but it was also thick.

Nelson greeted Collingwood briefly and was straight down to business. 'Are the men ready to march?' He said.

Collingwood watched as the last of the accumulating soldiers left their boats and joined the ranks along the beach. 'It looks like it.'

Nelson turned and faced his ship out in the river. He saluted his coxswain, who responded with the same salute. Now that the soldiers had been offloaded _the HMS Badger and the HMS Hinchinbrook _would sail back the way they came and circle around to meet the main fleet at the coast of San Juan. Essentially, there was no going back from this point onwards. Once the sails were loose and both ships were on their way, Nelson turned back to Collingwood. 'Lead the way.' He said.

Moving through the jungle was a slow and perilous business. On several occasions, as they forced through the dense leaves, Nelson would feel nauseous and would cough in small spasms. He passed it off as being dehydrated and continued on his way. Nelson recalled his early expedition to the Caicos Islands and the jungles where he had found the first key, where all of this began.

The jungles of Nicaragua were not much different. The men travelled in a straight line, taking turns at leading the group. It was much easier to travel at the back because those who were in front had already cleared a path. The leaders at the front had the tiresome challenge of hacking away with their machetes in order to get through, and so it was decided that the men would rotate in order to arrive at the fort unexhausted. This continued for little over a day. The entire time Collingwood was fixed to his compass to assure that they would not lose their bearings, but every few hours the company would reach a landmark left behind by Collingwood on his first journey here. When the night came they did not stop to rest, but continued by torchlight.

It was in darkness when the jungle truly came to life, and the call of nature was almost overpowering to the men. Never the less they were encouraged to press on. They did so until the dawn of the new day slowly inched its way through the jungle canopy. A few hours later Collingwood leaped with relief when he sighted his final landmark. There was a stream that ran straight through a small clearing in the jungle. Beside the stream was a single tree that had a worn piece of white cloth tied around one of the lower branches. The cloth was covered in tears and moss but it was distinguishable.

'We have made it.' Collingwood remarked. He pointed to the trees ahead of the stream. 'Fort San Juan is directly behind those trees.'

Nelson came up behind Collingwood and placed a hand over his shoulder. 'Then lets not waste any more time.'


	19. Chapter 19 - San Juan

**Chapter 19 – San Juan**

_"It is only in battle when we know who we truly are."_

_'3__rd__ March 1780,_

_I am writing this entry by torchlight. The jungle is dark, the insects are loud, and there is a green tree snake sitting by my shoulder. Today we will march on San Juan and end this chaos once and for all. It is going to get messy, and many good men are going to die. Then, at the same time, should I succeed I will bring about the end of the villainous General Cortez and his key will be in my possession. I will then be one step closer to finding the apple…'_

Nelson and the others lay hidden inside the jungle, like fleas in a fur coat. They moved stealthily and were ever so careful not to alert those of their presence behind the wall. So much of Nelson's life had led up to this moment, and there was no room for error. Slowly he and Collingwood positioned the soldiers along the tree line so that they were spread out, a good battle tactic for a mission like this.

When the time would come to plant the explosives and blow the wall, Nelson and Collingwood had decided to punch two holes. It was too obvious that so many men coming through a single chokepoint would only serve to let Cortez kill them off one by one. That is why, shortly after the first charge, Nelson would blow another hole several metres up the wall. He was certain that even Cortez would not see this coming.

While they waited, an eerie silence came upon them from over the wall. The fortress itself was alien to the green jungle that surrounded it. Nothing moved but the mist that gathered around their feet, clinging to the leafy ground and floating along as if it were ghosts summoned to haunt them. Still the seconds dragged by, counted by the chirping of wild insects behind them. Nelson could not handle the suspense much longer. He wanted it to be over.

At last it happened, the event that he was waiting so desperately for. Far to the Southeast came a loud bang. Nelson looked over and saw the vibrant red fire of the Chinese firework light up the darkened blue sky. The sight was captivating, and Nelson remained watching as the colours flaked down into the jungle below. There was an outburst of voices, all of the people within the fort pondered over the mysterious signal. Nelson's infantry remained hidden away like shadows of the jungle. Meanwhile, Cortez sent a small group out through the main gate to search for the source of the signal.

A second firework was set off. This time it came from the Northeast and its effect was very similar to the first. Now the Spanish were confused. Nelson braced himself for what was to come next. The first hit struck with the ferocious power and might of a God. Nelson could not see over the wall but he could hear the deafening blow as the first cannon ball collided with one of the fort buildings, crippling it and raising dust into the air. A second shot came after and was just as mighty. It collided into the Northern wall with such force that the bricks shattered like glass and a small part of it was knocked down. The General and his fleet had begun their bombardment, as was the plan. With no lack of mercy, Dalling's seven well-armed warships sailed back and forth past the coast side of the fort. They fired in deadly rallies that devastated the structures within, and they then focused their fire upon the enemy fleet that sat idle in the bay.

After fifteen long minutes the bombardment ceased and there was only cries, crumbling buildings and the echoes of the attack. Nelson glanced over to Collingwood who stood several metres down the tree line. With a single nod he indicated that it was time to plant the explosives. Collingwood was to go first. He and four others made their advance across the long opened space between the jungle and the wall. As they lugged the heavy powder cartridge over the gap, Nelson noticed from the tree line a Spanish soldier running fast along the wall. He paused very suddenly as he caught sight of the small army that had amassed beneath his walls. His eyes opened wide and his face was frozen with fear. The soldier gathered his wits and then cried out at the top of his lungs. 'Enemigo! Enemigo!' He faced his comrades and pointed to the enemy. Seconds later he was shot down. He jolted as the bullet pierced through his chest cavity and then, clutching the wound he toppled off of the wall. Nelson looked to his left and saw a cloud of gun smoke drifting away from James as he lowered his musket.

There was a brief moment of silence and Collingwood and the others began to increase their pace. They were straining with the heavy cartridge and by the time they were in position over a dozen armed men lined the wall like crows. Without hesitation Collingwood slammed the bomb down hard, directly below the wall. He drew out the fuse and using the fire from his torch he set it alight. The magnesium in the fuse helped it burn strong and bright and it had no chance of going out.

Meanwhile, Nelson and his men took refuge behind the trees. Each man fired at will and one by one the Spanish fell. All the same, a few of Nelson's men were unfortunate enough to take a bullet from those who held the high ground. One of his men was shot it the eye, and the poor lad's brains were splattered over the man who stood behind. Nelson had made sure that his best marksmen stood at the front of the ranks. Those who were not so skilled stood back and were tasked with collecting and reloading the used muskets. This ensured a steadier flow of fire. James fired was too fast for his re-loaders to keep up, and he had three of them reloading and passing the muskets along. With the steadiest hands that Nelson had ever seen, James lined up his shot and hit the target between the eyes before passing his musket over his shoulder and collecting a new one, and then repeating the process again.

For Collingwood the fuse on the powder keg had been lit, and he only had a few seconds to get far out of the blast range. Nelson focused his fire on the ones that leaned over and tried to fire upon Collingwood. During the glory run back towards the tree line, one of the men took a bullet to the back of the thigh. He toppled to the ground and all that the others could do was keep running. Another man was shot in the small of his back. His body convulsed and he was thrown onto his face, not yet dead but soon to be. Fear pushed Collingwood body to go on. He ran with everything that he had.

Vigorously the bomb exploded. The destructive force of it blew the surrounding wall into a thousand flying pieces. Collingwood was over fifty paces away and he was still knocked off of his feet. Body parts and pieces of stone were hurled high into the air and they hailed down like a doomsday storm. Nelson stood bewildered when a steaming boot landed directly in front of him.

The dust cleared, revealing a massive five metre wide gap in Cortez's defences. Collingwood reached to his scabbard and drew out his finely polished sword. With his weapon thrust high into the air he led the first charge against San Juan. With the battle having officially commenced, Nelson and Elizabeta were quick to act on planting the second explosive. They and two others rushed to the second position, if Nelson remembered correctly, the bomb would be placed directly behind the enemy barracks. That should tick Cortez off just a little more. Nelson dug a quick hole and placed the powder keg within it. He allowed Elizabeta the honour of lighting the fuse. As soon the little cord was burning bright they made a run for the tree line. Fortunately there was no one there to try to shoot them down. This explosion was a fearsome and unknowing as the first. Again the wall erupted and was blown away. The sound of it drowned out the battle that was happening further down and Nelson felt the hot air as it rushed over his body. As the smoke cleared, Nelson and his seventy-two men readied themselves.

With Elizabeta by his side Nelson pulled his sword from its scabbard and started to run. Elizabeta pulled two curved short-blades from her belt and twirled them in each hand to gain a better grip. Two Spanish soldiers emerged from the rubble of the wall, followed by many others. The one on Elizabeta's left swung his sword high and Elizabeta caught the blade with her own and pushed it aside. She then sprung to the side and drove her right blade into the neck of the other soldier. Nelson leaped into the air as Elizabeta knocked the first soldier off balance and then jabbed the man in the throat with his sword. As Elizabeta entered the fort, a large man wielding a two-handed great-sword lugged the heavy weapon at her chest. Three more attackers came behind the big man. Without stopping her advance, Elizabeta ducked the oncoming great-sword and spun around the man who was wielding it. In a kneeling position she stuck the man in the knee with her shot-blade, crippling him as she withdrew. Rising again, she diverted a blow from a surprise attacker, sweeping the blade aside and thrusting her other blade into his neck. Elizabeta took a step back as she deflected yet another blow with both her blades crossed. When the opening presented itself she struck the man in the nose with her elbow and jammed her right blade into his ribcage.

Beside her, Nelson fought with just as much vigour. He battled his way through the terrible masses, fighting back to back with James. As he hacked and sliced and parried against the enemy, Nelson could only hope that his men remembered that they were still outnumbered and that they had to stay together. Collingwood and Nelson had broadly marched their one hundred and forty against Cortez's one-thousand. As the clanging of metal and the cries of the dying carried on, Nelson caught sight of General Dalling's fleet out on the ocean, locked in battle with Cortez's war ships. Most of Cortez's great collection had been destroyed idly by the initial attack, however some had managed to get out into the bay and resist. The entire sea battle was mesmerising. Gun smoke blanketed the ocean and the cannons were like thunder. The remains of vessels already fallen littered the oceans surface. Nelson only counted six ships now in Dalling's fleet. The other floated in burning pieces in the middle of the bay. The survivors swam desperately towards the shore. The cause of the ships destruction was the heavy artillery cannons that were manned along the wall. The large cannons were permanently set and were designed to deliver killing blows to oncoming ships. Nelson knew that he had to destroy them so that Dalling could land his troops.

Nelson's infantry fought close together and held off well against the unstructured advances of the Spanish. He had only selected the most elite for this mission, but despite their talent in battle, without help Cortez would eventually overpower them. Nelson had to hurry. He stood on his toes and sought out Elizabeta among the battling forces. Her found her in the masses not so far away. Her white assassin cloak was stained red with Spanish blood. He called to her and she came without question.

'We have to take out the artillery.' Nelson pointed to the wall as he spoke.

Elizabeta understood clearly, her eyes were bright with battle lust, and together they dashed off into the gap between the blacksmith and the stables. It was much quieter away from the fighting and the air smelled like horses and smoke. They reached a small opening, and then rushed into one of the soldier buildings as a small battalion came by. Nelson hoped to get upon the wall without being detected immediately. The soldiers' rooms were empty, the beds were unmade and there were bits of clothing everywhere. Nelson kicked out the back door and ran outside again. He glanced down the street and his heart stopped as he sighted a firing squad of a dozen men, half kneeling, all with muskets fixed directly on Elizabeta and himself.

A man beside the squad gave the orders. 'Take aim!' He commanded.

Nelson looked left and right, but there was nothing. No cover that he could reach in time to save him.

'Any bright ideas?' He said to Elizabeta, looking for a way out. Nelson took a deep breath and braced himself for his demise, but he did not blink once. Then he heard a whistle, which was odd given the current situation. It was smooth and loud like that of a forest bird. Seconds later a crossbow bold pierced through one of the gunner's chests. It came from the roof above them. Another bolt came after, and then another and another in quick succession. Within less than a few seconds all twelve shooters and their commander were dead in a brutal pile of bolts and corpses on the ground. Some of the victims still kicked but their blood soaked the earth beneath them and soon enough they ceased to move.

Nelson was flabbergasted but unable to describe what he had just witnessed. It was as if fate had decided that he was to live this day. He found the real answer when a group of men and women emerged from the surrounding rooftops and buildings. The strange group were all athletically built. They wore outfits similar to the one that Elizabeta was currently wearing with shadowing hoods in the style of the assassin.

One of the assassins wore a brown vest, a maroon undershirt and a pair of black breeches. He was distinguishable as the leader of the group in the way that the others followed him. 'Elizabeta.' His voice was low and he had a strong Italian accent. 'We have an answered your call.'

Elizabeta strode forward and embraced the man. 'It's been a long time. I thought you weren't going to make it.'

The tall man then turned to Nelson. 'You must be Horatio Nelson, I have heard of you. I am Leonardo De Florence.' Leonardo offered a short bow. 'At your service.'

Nelson glanced over the clan of waiting assassins. 'Well it's nice of you to show up.' He said sternly. 'In fact you're right on time. We need someone to take out those artillery gunners up on the wall and give our ships a chance to land.

Leonardo responded quickly. 'It will be done.' He said, before turning to his assassins and making for the high wall. The assassins climbed over the rooftops and managed to leap onto the wall. Each one moved with the agility of a cat. Using their hidden blades and their daggers, they cut down the guards without effort and tossed the bodies aside. The assassins came up behind the artillerymen like shadows and drove their blades deep into the backs of the unsuspecting soldiers. Nelson was surprised by how quickly it had all been done.

General Dalling was still, however, in a position of danger. Nelson gathered a small troop of his own men and led them up to the wall. Under his instructions, the men loaded the cannons with new ammunition, took aim. They fired in a heavy cascade upon Cortez's fleet. The first round of fire was mostly successful, and one of the cannons fired high but managed to tear a hole through an enemy sail. Nelson immediately pushed another ball down the smoking barrel and they fired again. This time the ball collided directly into the bow of Cortez's largest ship. The balled ripped through the vessel like an angry lumberjack and the ship broke and began to collapse. All those aboard were forced to abandon ship and jump for their lives into the seemingly unforgiving ocean. In the meantime their ship was dragged under and consumed by the sea. Many in the water fell victim to the sharks that were attracted by the smell of the dead.

With the new advantage in holding against the enemy fleet, once of Dalling's ships broke off and sailed towards the half destroyed docks. In haste, the large vessel collided with the wooden boardwalk along the beach but it remained mostly undamaged. The men aboard the ship used ropes, ladders and ramps to climb down and meet the Spanish masses in combat. In an unruly pack, one hundred men scoured through the fort like an infestation of rats. From atop the wall, Nelson could feel the force of the collision as Dalling's men locked with Cortez's in battle. The atmosphere was so intense that Nelson found himself short of breath. He leaned against a barrel and tried to focus on his next task.

From his vantage point, Nelson spotted Cortez dressed in his Spanish plate-mail and breeches. The great man cut through his enemy with a heavy steel sword and slowly forced his way to the main hall.

'He's going after the key,' Nelson thought. 'I have to stop him.'

Nelson let Elizabeta and her assassins join the battle and began to run as fast as he could along the top of the costal wall. The ocean wind to his right was readily increasing and a single gust nearly threw Nelson off balance. He cut through two men as he manoeuvred around the crates of weapons and barrels of ammunition that had been thrown onto the wall in anticipation for battle. With a single running thrust, Nelson jabbed an artillery gunner in the eye with his sabre. The sword ran straight through the man's skull and when Nelson withdrew his blade the man fell back over a cannon. Nelson came upon another stray soldier up on the wall. The man panicked and clumsily tried to draw his sword, but Nelson struck first, slashing the man across the upper arm and then knocking him in the mouth with the hilt of his sabre. Nelson then tossed the disoriented body over the wall to feed the hungry sharks below.

At last Nelson reached the part of the wall above the execution stage. He realised that it was a relatively long drop down and there were fighting men below, higher than what he had first anticipated. He had no other choice though if he wanted to reach Cortez in time, and so he drew a deep breath and braced himself. He jumped and fell ten feet before landing on top of two Spanish soldiers. They fumbled around on the stage for a while until they could regain their feet. When the Spanish realised what had just happened they tried for their swords. In that instance Nelson dashed away across the stage, not bothering to face them. Nelson sprinted forwards, sabre in hand, and searched for the fastest way into the main hall. He spotted a large window about half a metre away from where the stage ended. With his eyes locked on it, Nelson tensed and then threw himself sideways into the glass. The window shattered and shards of glass went flying as Nelson crashed into the room. He landed hard into a bookshelf, knocking it over and leaving a mess of books and glass everywhere. Nelson's body rebounded off the shelf and he landed face down on the floor. Nelson groaned and then rolled onto his back covered in a million tiny shards of glass.

Quickly he regained his strength and rose to his feet. He brushed the glass off of his body and then rushed into the next room. He found himself in the main dining room. The remnants of Cortez's feast had not yet been cleaned up. Nelson glanced around to find the stairway up to Cortez's room. He hurried up the stairs and kicked down the door, hoping to find Cortez trapped with the key in his hands. When he entered the room though, he found nothing. The large chest had been left open and the gold within shone with beauty, but there was no key. It appeared that Cortez had rushed in and taken as much of the treasure as he could, but then ran out of time for the rest.

Nelson looked up towards the balcony. The windows had been kicked open and the red velvet curtains on both sides flapped in the wind. Gold sovereigns were scattered about on the hard wood floor. Nelson decided that Cortez could not be too far away.

He ran over, from the balcony her could see most of San Juan and the raging battle below. He could hear metal and cries and he could actually smell the blood of the fallen. Nelson's vision blurred slightly and he felt light headed, but he came back to his senses as he caught sight of General Cortez among the masses below. The man held a sack over his left shoulder and a sword in his right hand.

Nelson rushed back into the room and selected a musket from the weapon rack. With hasty hands he loaded his weapon as Cortez made for the stables. Cortez mounted the finest horse there and he began to ride out towards the main entrance, which had been blown open in the heat of the battle. Nelson drew a deep breath and relaxed. He took aim, flowing Cortez's body with the sights of his musket. He clicked the hammer all the way back and softly placed his finger on the trigger.

Then suddenly something on the stage caught his eye. He glanced over and saw Captain Locker fighting alone against four other men. Locker had his back turned to a Spanish soldier who stood a few meters behind. The soldier steadily withdrew a flintlock pistol from his belt and pointed it at Locker's body.

Nelson's eyes snapped back to General Cortez, who very soon would have made his escape from the midst of the battle. Nelson realised that he was faced with a difficult choice of killing Cortez or saving Locker. Nelson pulled his sights away from Cortez and swung his musket towards the stage. He locked onto the man with the pistol and then fired. The muzzle of the musket flared up with gun smoke and the Spanish soldier spun around and fell to the floor. The bullet had caught him in the temple. Locker thrust his sword into the chest of his last attacker and then spun around to see that Nelson had just saved his life. He looked up at the balcony and offered a salute of gratitude.

Nelson was physically exhausted by all the recent events and now Cortez had escaped, but Nelson was not prepared to give up so easily. He thought about it, everything that he had worked for would be in vain if he did not stop Cortez now. In a frustrated manner, Nelson threw his musket to the side and then reached up for the red curtains. He ripped one of the curtains from its hanger and lengthened it out. He then rapped the end of the curtain around one of the poles in the balcony rail and tossed the rest over the edge. Nelson held on tight to his rope and then leaped off the balcony. Using the hanging curtain he climbed until his feet touched with the ground. The fighting had died down a little and the bodies of both armies littered the fort in a gruesome display. Nelson ignored his sympathy and raced into the stables, collecting a pistol from one of the dead as he ran. The air smelled like wet hay. Nelson mounted the first horse that had a saddle and then rode out with haste, hoping to catch General Cortez along the road.

As his horse galloped through the broken front gates of the fort, Nelson checked that his new pistol was loaded and then placed it in his empty holster. Nelson furthered away from the fort and the sound of battle faded away until all he could hear was his own breathing and the patterned clattering of his horse's hooves. Nelson rode on at a high pace until he came around a bend and found the upturned dust from Cortez's mount. Instinctively he increased his speed until he found the large armoured man riding ahead on his overloaded horse. Once again Nelson felt light headed, as if his adrenaline had suddenly ran out and he was starting to see double vision. He shook his head rapidly and focused on General Cortez's body. Cortez looked over his shoulder and increased his pace when he sighted Nelson behind him.

Nelson reached into his belt, took up his pistol and pointed it at Cortez. He took aim and cocked the hammer back, but then started to see double again. Nelson found that he was breathing heavy and was sweating. He fired the pistol but the bullet whizzed straight past Cortez. Nelson lost his vision and then blacked out, falling of his horse and barrel rolling along the ground.


	20. Chapter 20 - It's Time To Rest

**Chapter 20 – It's Time To Rest**

_"Even the strongest among us need to rest some time."_

_'31__st__ February 1780,_

_What gives a man his purpose? Is it the things that he is obliged to do? Is it the things that his commanders tell him to do? When a man sets out to save the world, or control it, who has the right to say that the world needs to be changed? In the end does it all come down to those who are good? Is it my purpose to feel obliged to protect the good, and so become good myself? But I am not good. I have killed men, and robbed from others, hurt people, taken advantage of people. I can try to justify my actions and say that it is all for the greater good, but that is no excuse. I do not regret the things I have done nor do I want people to understand them. My purpose is the apple. I am meant to find it. Whether it is to protect it or to use it, it does not matter. I will never rest until it is in my hands…'_

Slowly Nelson opened his eyes and stared up at the leaves of a coconut tree that served to blot out the sun. He was lying on a rough spun blanket over soft white beach sand. Nelson heard someone squeezing water out of a sponge and into a bucket. He turned his neck and sighted a young dark skinned woman wearing a white dress. She came over to him with the sponge in hand and placed the cool material over his forehead.

'There there.' She said. Her voice was soothing and sweet. 'It is about time you opened your eyes. I thought you would never wake up. My name is Cubah Cornwallis.'

The woman's English was not very fluent but Nelson could understand her well enough. 'What time is it?' He asked.

'About three o'clock.' She said as she removed the sponge from Nelson's forehead. 'It's the sixth of March. You have been asleep for three days now. You had the black water fever, real bad too. Worse than anyone I've ever seen before.'

Nelson sat up gently. 'Blackwater?' He uttered. It was the common term used for malaria. Without a word, the nurse set her things down and then walked off into the trees, leaving Nelson alone. When she returned, just five minuted later, General Dalling and Sir Parker accompanied her. Dalling pulled up a crate full of spices and sat down comfortably on it. Sir Parker did the same.

Dalling was the first to speak. 'Nelson, glad to see that you are okay. My young doctoress over here says that you had a bad case of black water fever.'

Nelson coughed once and then replied, 'It appears so.'

'Nevertheless I'd like to congratulate you and Collingwood on getting us into the fort. We owe our victory to you both.'

'Where is Collingwood?' Nelson asked.

'I sent him off to hunt down all the Spanish that tried to escape after our victory. Boy can they run.' Dalling remarked.

Sir Parker cut in. 'Yes, you did well. I've decided to give you command of a new ship, The HMS Janus. You can take command as soon as you are able.'

Now Cubah cut in. 'I'm sorry sir, but Horatio has not even broken his fever, and he was seriously wounded in the fighting. It may be a very long time before he is well again.'

Sir Parker thought for a moment. 'Very well, I've changed my mind. Perhaps you've done your part in the West Indies, and you've done it well. I am discharging you from here on until you are well again. Take the HMS Lion back to England and regain your strength.'

'Thank you sir.' Nelson said.

Cubah cut in again. 'He needs to rest.' She motioned for Dalling and Parker to leave. They stood up together and gave Nelson some privacy. He slept like a baby for the rest of the day and the night.

The next afternoon Nelson was given permission by Cubah to walk around the fort. He found that it had been mostly cleaned up, despite the damage done to the buildings. The entire fallen British soldiers were still being buried along the road that led into San Juan. The Spanish dead were either burned or thrown to the ocean.

As soon as he felt weak he returned to Cubah on the beach and he rested. Later that night Elizabeta and Collingwood joined him.

'Straight after the battle I sent the assassin's after Cortez, they are tracking him. We'll get another chance in time.' Elizabeta reassured.

Nelson informed both of them of his new plans. 'I am leaving for England with the HMS Lion as soon as she is ready. Once I have recovered I will go after Cortez myself. I want to make sure that he dies by my hand.'

'We're coming with you.' Collingwood said.

'No,' Nelson rebutted. 'Your place is here with Sir Parker, there is still work for you to do.'

'Then I guess this is goodbye, for now anyway.'


	21. Chapter 21 - Going Home

**Chapter 21 – Going Home**

_"There will always be another chance."_

_'13__th__ August 1780,_

_I rest now in the soft bunks of the doctor's quarters aboard the HMS Lion. I don't go on deck very often. I may have beaten my illness but it sure as hell isn't going out without a fight. It clings to be like a barnacle to a ship, never wanting to let go. I will be home soon…'_

Nelson watched the giant orange sun descend as dusk fell over the ocean. Dusk was the only time that the new doctor would allow Nelson to move about the ship. He said that the sun was good for him. Claiming that it cleansed the soul and those who remain in darkness were sick and evil. It all sounded superstitious to Nelson but he followed his orders as a good patient does. As the days ticked on, one by one, he began to yearn for the feeling of a sword in his hand. He began to yearn for one last chance to finish what he had started so long ago, and with Elizabeta by his side, he promised that he would do justice to those that had opposed him.

Eventually the sun sank in the ocean and night fell upon them. Nelson slowly walked through the ship and climbed into his bunk. He lay there, thinking of the future and the day the he would drive a sword though General Cortez's chest. Nelson said the names of his enemies out loud, it gave him pleasure, and then he went to sleep.


End file.
